


Remember the day I set you free

by SkilledWarriorKiwi



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fallout, Alternate Universe - No Stands (Jojo), Ambiguous Pre-War time, Ambiguous Sole Survivor, Angst, Animal Death, Awkwardness, Bad Decisions, Blood and Gore, Camping, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Developing Friendships, Drama, Dubious Ethics, Epic Friendship, Eventual Romance, Exploration, Ghouls, Gun Violence, Harm to Animals, Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inaccurate Survival Skills, Isolation, Loneliness, Long Shot, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Minor Character Death, Morally Ambiguous Character, Muse Made Me Do It, Mutants, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Use, Permanent Injury, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Nuclear War, Rating will change, Science Experiments, Slavery, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Trans Male Character, Typical Fallout Themes, VERY eventual romance, Vault 111, When I finally get to the smutty stuff lol, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 87,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkilledWarriorKiwi/pseuds/SkilledWarriorKiwi
Summary: 'But the sad, obvious truth is that the days of manageable war have nearly come to an end. In the minds of the world's great leaders, those billions of dollars haven't merely been spent - they've been wasted. Because here we are, after more than a decade of constant warfare, with no clear end - and no clear winner - in sight. So really, at this point, what other option do these superpowers have, if not the nuclear one? And therein, of course, lies the rub. For when China or the United States launches its nuclear missiles, and drops its atomic bombs, there will be no one left to count the casualties, let alone the ordnance. No one left to declare victory.' -Mags Veccio.Johnny occasionally wished he'd died during the initial bombing. At least then he wouldn't have to deal with the radiation, blown up buildings, isolated wastes, deformed monsters, frequent storms and terrible food after thawing out two centuries later.





	1. Welcome to Vault 111

* * *

**CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL**  
**SECURITY EYES ONLY | VIOLATION VTP-01011**

Vault 111 is designed to test the long-term effects of suspended animation on unaware, human subjects who have had vital organs or essential bone structure replaced with Vault-Tec approved technological replacements that have already undergone medical screening during initial selection process. Security staff are responsible for maintaining installation integrity and monitoring science staff activity.  


Under no circumstances are staff allowed to deviate from assigned duties. Insubordination or interference with vault operations are capital offenses. Security staff are authorized to use lethal force. 

Upon Activation Notice from Vault-Tec, all personnel are required to report to the Entry Area and assist with admittance of Vault Residents. Security Personnel will maintain order and ensure that no personnel or residents attempt to evacuate the Vault.   
Research staff will be responsible for resident intake and escort each to the designated cryogenic pod. Residents not accounted for in the manifest should be asked to step aside and detained forcefully by security if necessary. 

Once all residents have been sealed into their preservation chambers dispose of any detainees. Vault entryway must remain sealed under any circumstances. 

* * *

**Staff Duties**

Science Staff   
  
Members of the research team must daily monitor the vital signs of cryogenically preserved residents. Cardiopulmonary and cognitive activity in particular must be recorded hourly.   
Life-saving intervention is only permitted if greater than 80% of the resident population has perished while in cryogenic suspension, and must not interrupt suspension.   
Independent research is encouraged, and left to Overseer discretion. 

Security Personnel   
Security patrols are to be carried out on a constant eight-hour rotation.   
  
Security priorities include:   
\- Monitoring for signs of intrusion   
\- Checking for atmosphere leaks   
\- Settling disputes among personnel   
\- Enforcement of regulations set forth by the Overseer   
\- Enforcement of regulations set forth by Vault-Tec 

Facility Services & Maintenance   
  
Due to the nature of Vault 111, personnel will be expected to perform duties outside of their normal qualifications, such as janitorial duties and food preparation.   
The exact distribution of these roles is left to Overseer discretion. 

**All Clear & Evacuation**   
  
All-Clear Message   
Following a nuclear event, Vault-Tec will monitor hazards such as radiation levels, enemy invasion, subsequent attacks, and other factors. Once conditions are deemed safe, this terminal will receive an all-clear notice.   
Upon receiving the all-clear notice, Vault-Tec personnel may be evacuated at Overseer discretion. Disregard any notices from organizations or individuals not associated with Vault-Tec, including government and military. Residents are not to be disrupted or evacuated. Vault-Tec will attend to their needs remotely once Vault 111 staff has been evacuated. 

**Mandatory Shelter Period**  
  
Vault 111 is classified as a short-term assignment. Non-resident personnel are expected to carry out research duties and basic maintenance of the Vault while awaiting the All-Clear signal to evacuate.   
In the absence of an All-Clear message from Vault-Tec, the Overseer may elect to evacuate staff after a mandatory shelter period of 180 days of containment. Under no cirumstance may Vault 111 staff evacuate during this shelter period, unless receiving the All-Clear message from Vault-Tec. 

* * *

**Pod Occupant Status**

Pod B1: Mr. DiPietro   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure. 

Pod B2: Cindy Cofran   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure. 

Pod B3: Mrs. Whitfield   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure. 

Pod B4: Mrs. Cofran   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure. 

Pod B5: Mr. Whitfield   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure. 

Pod B6: Mr. Cofran   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure.

Pod C1: Mr. Joestar.  
Occupant status: Stable. Pod Door Remote Override Engaged. 

Pod C2: Mrs. Callahan   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure. 

Pod C3: Mr. Callahan   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure.

Pod C4: Mr. Able   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure.

Pod C5: Mrs. Able   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure. 

Pod C6: Mrs. Doe.   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure.

Pod C7: Mr. Doe and Infant.   
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure.

Pod C8: Mr. Russell  
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure.

* * *

Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink   
Clearance: Overseer Eyes Only 

Cryogenic Array: Offline. Premature termination resulting in system failure.   
Controls disabled. 

Life support: Offline. Premature termination resulting in system failure.   
Critical system failure detected in central observation system. Recommend immediate diagnostic and repair.

Error- failure to isolate critical system fault. Malfunction detected in cryogenic array.   
80% + vital sign failure in cryogenic suspension subjects and 100% staff fatality rate detected.

Emergency protocols activated, overrides initiated on cryogenic pods.  
  


* * *

Congratulations, citizens of Vault 111!   
  
Thank you for choosing Vault-Tec! We hope you have enjoyed your stay.   
As an inhabitant of one of Vault-Tec's luxury accommodations you have been spared no expense in enduring the nuclear devastation of the world above. While you may feel some faint sensations of disorientation from your prolonged cryogenic stasis you can count on Vault-Tec's helpful staff and security to help you get back on your feet in no time.  


As citizen of Vault 111 we hope you'll enjoy your own personal RobCo Pip-Boy 3000 assigned to your biometric lock, free of charge! This handy piece of hardware will help monitor your health progress and status with many more benefits, be sure to ask your overseer for your Pip-Boy 3000 instruction manual. Remember - your Pip-Boy is not a toy. Proper cleaning and maintenance will ensure its operation for this and future generations. Be sure to keep that in mind and we look forward to seeing you become a productive member of Vault 111.  


Our state of the art technological facilities will also be monitoring humanities progress and before you know it you and the rest of your fellow loyal Vault-Tec inhabitants will be ready to be out and about in the new world above.  


But not so fast! Be sure to check with your overseer to find out if it's safe to leave. Here at Vault-Tec, your safety is our number one priority.  


* * *


	2. Dethawed Kentucky chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer; I know absolutely nothing about the geography of America and have no desire to learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S - 4  
> P - 6  
> E - 8  
> C - 2  
> I - 5  
> A - 3  
> L - 7
> 
> Also all Jojo's would have Nerd Rage! as a default perk.

* * *

_"Critical failure in cryogenic array. All Vault residents must evacuate immediately."_

The voice was muffled and Johnny barely paid any attention to it. The slugginess of his mind and body just reminded him of all the times he'd been drugged up in hospital, and with a weak movement he managed to open his eyes. Tiny pin-pricks of pain accompanied the movement, delicate snowflakes clumping his eyelashes together. His breath came in fogged huffs, minute tremors shaking his limbs as he struggled to wake up.

He couldn't remember where he was, at least not at first. Even staring groggily out of the iced up window of the pod didn't jog any memories, before reaching out with shaking hands and gripping the inside bars. A hissing noise and then the pod lid slid open and Johnny was fairly unceremoniously fell out of the pod. His legs, frozen and stiff, instantly collapsed under his weight where he hit the ground face first in a boneless heap.

Dazed, he lay there in a heap for a long minute, breath ragged and occasionally interrupted by bouts of harsh coughing that left him shivering and aching. When he tried to stand his legs remained numb and unresponsive so he had to drag himself across the floor a few feet.

 _What the fuck happened?_ It was a sleepy thought, most of his attention fixed on hacking and wheezing while shivering violently. The side of his face was pressed against the metal grating and sluggishly he reached up a trembling hand and dragged it down his face; clumps of ice crystals fluttered down to the floor, quickly evaporating into a tiny puddle.

Eventually Johnny managed to push himself up, kneeling on his unresponsive legs as he struggled to regain his bearings. As he slowly thawed out it dawned on him where he was.

Vault 111.

Suddenly he could vividly remember the flash of light followed by a huge blooming mushroom cloud on the horizon, quickly followed by a massive blast of heated air that Johnny felt would sear his skin right off. Instead the elevator had finally kicked in, pulling them down into the darkness of Vault. Following that had almost been a feverish blur, pulling on the ugly Vault suit, being ushered into the strange pods while hearing the muffled voice of the scientists.

He didn't even bother to find out if his parents had heard the warning before running out of the house, straight towards the Vault, after the emergency channel got broadcasted on the television. By the time he'd gotten to the Vault site his back was cramping and legs seizing but he'd gotten there in time. Then it had been a numb sense of shock, being half dragged half carried into the interior of the Vault, shepherded into one of those ugly blue jumpsuits and then ushered into one of the pods and sealed in. 

Coughing Johnny squinted at the opened pod behind him, trying to remember what the hell he'd ever been in that thing for. Resting back he racked his fingers through his red hair, the ice melting and making the locks clumped and damp. 

"Fuck," he leaned over and retched, puking up a mouthful of bile on the metal floor. Wheezing he rolled onto his side, at least having the presence of mind to not fall into his own vomit. The bombs.

_"We do have...coming in...confirmed reports. I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonation in New York and Pennsylvania. My God..."_

The war. The nuclear war.

Shivering Johnny eventually forced himself along the floor, dragging himself to the opposite pod on his still useless legs. The knowledge of the atomic warhead exploding mere minutes after the televised warning. Johnny lucked out immensely, having been on the ground floor absentmindedly watching some daft programme on the television when it had been interrupted by the news, wherein the presenter told the views about the confirmed nuclear attacks on America. He's just worked on autopilot then, getting up and bolting for the Vault. He'd be let through by the army personnel to where the giant gear showing the entry elevator of the Vault had been before seeing the bomb detonate in the distance.

But he didn't really know what happened between then and where the hell was the staff? There had been doctors and security staff walking around, not to mention the others who'd reached the Vault.

It took another minute or two for him to finally sit back up, pins and needles prickling his arms as he dragged himself forward until he was in front of the pod opposite his own. His legs were still unresponsive but he could see the frosted form of someone inside. _Why isn't this open?_

Trying to yank on the red lever on the control panel next to the pod just caused it to make a fairly angry noise and jerk back into place out of his grip.

 _"Malfunction in Cryo Pod manual release override."_ The cool female voice said. Yanking on the lever again just caused the message to repeat.

"Well fuck you then," Johnny managed to say before dissolving into another bout of harsh coughing.

Deciding to ignore the controls, he started dragging himself down the narrow catwalk between the pods. He at least remembered being ushered through that door. It had mostly been a straight shot from the entry to the pods. The exit button for the door was still functioning, even if Johnny grunted at having to reaching up and fumble for the switch, and slid upwards with no issue.

His legs still remained frozen and a part of Johnny was terrified they'd stay that way- he remembered how horrible it had been lying in a hospital bed for months while being unable to feel anything from the waist down years ago. However long stretches of intensive surgery, spinal replacement and physical therapy meant that slowly, very slowly, he'd been able to get back on his feet even if his legs would still occasionally give way or seize up if he spent too long on them or if he hit his back on someone. He still recalled when he ended up banging into a door frame by accident and his legs had given out for nearly ten minutes.

 _No, calm the fuck down,_ Johnny berated himself, _You've been stuck in a damn ice box for whoever knows how long, get a grip._

However the longer he sat on the ground the more confused he got as to where everyone else was. He hadn't been quiet and he'd been lying on the ground for quite some time before dragging himself from the room. But then again the evacuation message had sounded over the intercom several times since he'd been lying there so for all he knew the staff had already bounced. Typical. It didn't explain the message when he tried to open the other pod but Johnny decided to ignore the others. He got a fairly strong feeling the others in the pods were dead- just from the way they were slumped over inside and the error message but couldn't muster up the energy to be sure. He just wanted _out_ but with his legs useless he wouldn't get far.

He was strong enough to drag himself through the doorway however, from all those times he'd been restricted to a wheelchair after surgery though it was fairly slow going. He needed to stop several times to catch his breath, tired and shaky. Everything was still cold and numb, but he ignored it in favour of grabbing onto the lip of the work bench just outside the pod room. Baring his teeth, Johnny pulled himself up just using his upper arm strength until he was able to settle on the chair in front of the desk. He rested his forehead on the bench, breath shaky. The pain in his head had slowly gotten worse after awakening, like a pounding hangover after a night long binge in Vegas. 

While slumped there he was absently mindedly aware of how quiet the Vault was; There was no other type of ambient noise in the Vault, just the hum of electricity and the harsh lights. No voices or any sign of habitation. 

_Where is everyone?_ He peeled his head off the table, wincing at the sensation. Scrubbing a hand through his red hair he squinted down the hallway, half expecting someone to be wandering around or...or something. Instead the Vault was creepily quiet. Sleeping. Just like all the dead in their pods.

Hitting his knee Johnny scowled at the lack of sensation in his legs still. The chill of the pod still clung to him, having settled deep in his bones like being stuck outside on a frosty winter night that left his fingers and nose numb. Even the fabric of the blue Vault suit did little to protect his body and Johnny suddenly wanted nothing more than a shower. Something to get rid of how cold he was.

With a resigned grunt, Johnny slid off the chair and started the annoying task of dragging himself across the ground and out of the room. It led to another corridor with five doors- two on either side and one at the end. The first door led to some sleeping chambers but the one opposite was the bathroom facility and at the end was three shower stalls.

Dragging himself into one of the shower stalls Johnny peeled off the blue and yellow Vault 111 jumpsuit and his underclothes before stretching up and turning on the water. He flinched at the sudden blast of cold water, soaking him in seconds before it slowly warmed up. Resting his back against the tiled wall he tugged his legs up against his chest before pushing back his soaked fringe as he slowly thawed out.

To his absolute relief after sitting naked under the hot spray for nearly five minutes the feeling began to return to his legs, slowly and with spasms of pain from the tightly knotted muscle. He rubbed his hands down his shins, grinding his teeth at the horrid sensation but still feeling relieved at the pain. It mean his back wasn't useless. 

On that thought he cautiously reached down one hand, pressing it against the small of his back where the dark iron grey of his artificial spine protruded from his skin in a metallic hump. It was something the doctors had intended to fix somewhere down the line, the knot of scar tissue from the original injury and subsequent surgeries getting bad enough it had to be removed before it interfered with the remaining lower vertebrae. They had said they would eventually fully fix his spine with an implant subtle enough and covered with reformed skin. However the bombs rather ruined that plan. At least he could walk well enough even if the prickling pins and needles twitching his legs made him dig his nails into his knees.

By the time he turned off the shower his fingers were pruned but the pain in his lower body had largely dissipated. Didn't stop his hips, knees and ankles aching when he shakily got up onto his feet and switched off the shower though. Strangely enough when he checked the locker by the shower it was filled with towels and he dried himself off with slow movements, interrupted occasionally by coughing.

_Where is everyone?_

Getting back into his clothes- that fuckugly Vault suit, he needed to find something else to wear -Johnny hobbled outside, squinting down the hallway. Wandering further through the Vault revealed no one, but he did end up in one of the equipment rooms where he found a drawer full of Pip-Boys. Grabbing it he strapped it onto his wrist, knowing that at least the thing had an inbuilt computer into it along with a calendar and radio so at least maybe he could pick up something.

He felt the prick of it taking his blood sample, locking it to his geometric signature, before it booted up. Sitting on the small stool next to the drawers, Johnny watched as lines of code ran up the screen. Despite having slept - _frozen?_ -for who the hell know how he felt inordinately tired.

That was how he ended up slumped against the drawers, half on the stool and snoring until he woke up nearly fifteen minutes later. Forcing himself back up he checked his Pip-Boy, where was now fully booted. It had already run a status check over his body, displaying the small mascot on screen. He huffed a sarcastic laugh as it detonated him being healthy.

Johnny shut right up when he checked the date, however. Printed in neat green text.

October 23 2287  


"What." He said stupidly.

Going through the computer in the room revealed the same impossible date. If that matched with the date when the bombs went off then it meant two hundred and ten years passed since the bombs fell.

_That can't be right. The shit?_

Ignoring the raising pang of hysteria Johnny stumbled upright and shuffled out of the room, looking for the exit. Predictably the door leading right to the Vault entry was broken, wouldn't budge, so he was forced to go around the long way. While hobbling around he found another room filled with pods and checking the computer showed they were all dead.

The rest of the staff seemed to have gone that way with entries of internal rebellion and killing over scant food supplies. He found a Vault suit clad skeletal remains riddled with bullets showing what happened to the staff strewn around the place. At one point he very, very reluctantly took a 10mm pistol that was only a few inches from the outstretched hand of a dead dweller. The bullets he put in his pockets, which at least the ugly Vault 111 suit had a large amount of. At least he felt marginally better having a weapon even if he wasn't sure if he could use it properly. _Just point and shoot, right?_

Truthfully he'd never fired a gun and after being shot had even less interest in knowing how but awkwardly took the belt harness from the skeleton despite the sheer disgust he felt over touching the body. Even if the original was long dead and beyond caring it still felt abhorrent to rummage through a dead body. He felt an intense urge to wash his hands after putting on the harness, the 10mm pistol fitting snug into the brown leather.

He didn't expect to have to use it but when he hobbled into the cafeteria he immediately became aware of a persistant scratching noise. Looking around he expected to see maybe a malfunctioning Mister Handy but instead there was a giant cockroach the size of a large cat scuttling around the ground. As soon as it saw him it sped towards him, multitude of legs rushing forward in a brown blur.

"What the fuck?!" Johnny shouted, jumping back and hitting a table. He scrambled up onto it just as the giant cockroach lunged for his foot like a guard dog, little pincer in its mouth snapping. 

Awkwardly kneeling on the table- knocking off a dusty plate and glass as he shuffled back -Johnny peered down at the giant bug. He never really liked them, but it was surreal at how damn big the thing was. The fact it had charged right at him like some rabid animal was also fairly strange. Disturbing but mostly strange.

It became obvious the thing wouldn't leave, instead it was circling the table and trying to crawl up onto the chairs so he ended up shooting it. 

He was a lousy shot and ended up using the whole clip before managing to blast the thing's head right off. Then he spent some awkward minutes reloading the pistol, movements awkward and unsure. First time he put the bullets in the wrong way but fixed it after the first couple bullets.

Gingerly stepping around the splattered remains of the cockroach Johnny shuffled through the kitchen, pausing briefly to suck down a cup of water before heading down the corridor. He found a maintenance room with a skeleton inside and another console in a differing room which revealed more of what had happened. It also had a copy of _The Red Menace_ on it and he wasted a minute playing that before leaving. Stupid trivialities but whatever, he had gotten an ugly sinking feeling in his gut ever since getting out of the shower when his legs stopped being a priority. 

Fobbing off his increasing bad feelings Johnny searched for a way out he continued going through the Vault, eventually finding a roundabout way to reach entry way. There was another one of those giant roaches, and he killed it like the other. He had no idea why they were so vicious but for all Johnny knew they were starving. That or the radiation made them man-hunters but he was still resistant to the idea that two hundred years had even passed. It must be a glitch.

Kicking aside the bullet riddled remains of the giant roach- and ignoring the stab of pain in his pelvis at the motion -Johnny looked at the colossal gear of metal sealing the entry way of the Vault. He knew enough from the ads inundating television before the bombs about Vault-Tec harping on about how durable the doors was so he scouted around for a different means of exit before finding the white-clad skeleton in front of a sprawling console. The entry controls.

He angrily hit at the console several times before realizing he needed to plug in his Pip-Boy. With that connected he was able to force the override on the colossal Vault door, hitting the large red button as soon as it became active. The screech of metal the huge gear made as it was dragged backwards made him grit his teeth, muscles twitching with the desire to get out of the Vault and all the dead in it. The door had barely been rolled to the side when he darted through the opening, nearly stumbling over the still extending catwalk as he hobbled out and down the stairs.

At his approach the elevator slid down to the ground floor, the door grumbling as it slowly moved open. He poked his head in, making sure there was anymore of those ugly giant bugs before shuffling in and hitting the button is ascend. After a grinding hiss the elevator moved upwards and at the same time Johnny's legs folded up underneath him. With a grunt he rested heavily on the old dense metal of the elevator floor, squinting up at the seal way far above.

 _"Enjoy your return to the surface and thank you for using Vault-Tec!"_ An electronic voice said to him. Johnny scowled in the voice's general direction. _Like hell._

When the elevator neared the surface the seal shuddered before slowly creaking open with Johnny shielding his face as two centuries worth of dust showered down on him, still slumped on the cold metal which rapidly seeped through the fabric of his blue Vault suit. As soon as the elevator cleared the now open hatch a hot buffet of air blasted him, dusty and dry. He instinctively clamped his hands over his eyes, grimacing at the pain the abrupt appearance of sunlight caused.

Keeping his breathing even, or at the very least trying to slow it down, Johnny very gingerly lowered his hands from his face. His vision was blurry, everything fuzzy and murky like he was badly hung over, before slowly and steadily it settled. When it did Johnny stared. And stared.

The last time he'd been on the surface everything had been green and bright before being abruptly shaken by the apparent of a mushroom cloud on the horizon. But there had been _life._

Now it was ugly browns and blackened buildings in the distance. The trees were dead burnt-out husks and leafless branches. Looking behind him showed the security set up and vehicles, which he still remembered passing as if it had only been an hour ago, where rusted over or seared. The only bright colour was the sky, the same normal blue with puffy white clouds streaking through it. Otherwise everything else was dead.

"Shit."

* * *


	3. Santurary

* * *

The whole town looked terrible.

Johnny certainly wasn't one for admiring architecture but most of the buildings were blackened husks, with rotted interiors. Most of the doors and windows were gone with most roofs caving inwards, with charred skeletons of cars parked in driveways of cracked cement. All the trees were dead or at the very least looked like they barely survived a fire. Even the massive oak in the middle of the roundabout was burnt with no leaves while any scraps of grass was a harsh ugly brown. The whole town looked beyond awful.

Then again it had gone through a nuclear apocalypse so it made sense in a way. Didn't make him feel any less shaky as he wandered around the township, sore and confused. At least the outside area of the town looked just as bad, barren and brown. At least it answered the question of how badly fucked the environment would be after a nuke was dropped, something which had been speculated heavily while the war between the USA and China dragged on.

The sunlight however was still as bright as it had ever been, with white clouds and blue sky. When he reached the bridge- which was in fairly bad shape with countless rotten boards and gaps -the water running through the river was still blue and deep. For some reason he expected it to be bright green or something. 

He ended up sitting at the base of the bridge for nearly half an hour, just watching the river flow past quietly and wondering what the hell he was even supposed to do. Eventually he got fed up with sitting and feeling sorry for himself, so with a grunt he got up and went back into the town and started rummaging through the countless houses.

His legs still ached, with occasionally a sharp pang of pain or muscle spasm, but thankfully didn't collapse under him while he looked through the dead housing. The cryogenic freezing clearly didn't make his spine or legs particularly happy but Johnny just ground his teeth and tried to ignore it. He'd learn through many painful months that usually it was best to keep active or his muscles could go ridged. An experience he didn't really want to relieve.

There were some signs of life, however, even if it was only in the form of several more of those giant roaches. Johnny never really was much of a bug person but being attacked by insects the size of large cats was fairly disturbing. At one point he got attacked by two and after killing one with a full clip he ended up grabbing a nearby rusty trashcan and bashing the revolting thing until his arms ached and it was a messy splatter on the filthy ground.

Then he awkwardly reloaded his gun, trying to ignore his hands shaking before sidestepping the ugly mess on the floor and still twitching spindly legs. 

Searching through the belongings which survived the nukes didn't reveal much, mostly half rotted clothes and radiated food. Johnny wasn't yet hungry, the freezing making him feel oddly mild in terms of food and water. However he wasn't willing to drink the river water but at least Vault 111 had clean water. He just wasn't entirely wanting to go back down there just yet.

When he was walking back towards the centre of town this time he spotted movement by one of the houses. He tensed, before realizing it was a rusted Mister Handy vainly trying to trim the dead remains of a hedge. He watched the machine, swinging its buzzsaw back and forth on one of its third arms as it hovered in place, before tentatively approaching; while the thing looked functional he'd read news stories about some going berserk if their combat inhibitor became damaged. Resulted in a few pretty lawsuits from what he recalled.

Making sure to keep himself out of arm's reach Johnny cleared his throat awkwardly to get the machine's attention. After a brief moment the Mister Handy shuddered strangely before going back to trying to trim the bush so he tried another method.

"You're that Mister Handy owned by that lawyer and her husband, aren't you?" Johnny said, in an overly loud voice, "Are you waiting for someone? Is there other people here?"

The robot finally paused in its ineffective trimming of the dead tree, swinging around to face him. He leaned back slightly as one of its eye stalks jutted forward, the shutter clicking open behind the glass as it stared at him intently. Its propulsion jet ruffled some of the leaves underneath it and Johnny wondered how the thing remained functional for two centuries.

"Welcome to our happy home, sir. Can I get you a drink? Cheerio!" the robot suddenly blurted in its preppy British voice, edging even closer to Johnny and making him lean away from the thing. 

" No, I don't want a damn drink," he snapped, "I'm asking if you've seen other people here."

"Welcome to our happy home, sir. Can I get you a drink? Cheerio!"

"Is anyone here? Has anyone been here since the bombs dropped?" Johnny asked it, a hint of anger edging into his voice as he rapidly lost patience with the malfunctioning machine.

"Welcome to our happy home, sir. Can I get you a drink? Cheerio!"

"Or your original owners, for fuck's sake!"

"Welcome to our happy home, sir. Can I get you a drink? Cheerio!"

Johnny threw his hands up in the air before storming away, resisting the urge to punch the rusted Mister Handy. While he wasn't an expert on AI, he had a feeling the robot wasn't going to be helpful anytime soon and he'd probably just break his hand on the stupid thing. As it was, clearly the isolation had rotted the machine's thought processor and Johnny was no tech expert enough to restore it.

At least he didn't have the fight the damn thing. He wasn't sure if the 10mm pistol would even puncture the thing's metal shell. Whatever. 

Choosing to ignore the machine he instead went into the house it was outside of, watching it carefully until he was sure the thing wouldn't turn hostile from him trespassing. Instead it just went back to butchering the scrub. With that sorted Johnny started rummaging through the house, trying to find anything useful. Funnily enough he found a crinkled yet whole Grognak the Barbarian comic on the kitchen counter which he decided to take; it didn't seem like television would be a thing anymore.

Going down that thought process just started to make him think if there was actually anyone left in Boston so he quickly shoved it aside in favour of going through the battered fridge. The Nuka-Cola's inside were still whole even if his Pip-Boy detected minuscule traces of radiation inside the fluid. After a moment of hesitation he put the two bottles back inside, not quite willing to drink radiation. If all else failed he'd just go back into the Vault as he remembered the countless advertisements and posters ranting on about the dangers of radiation before the bombs even fell. The giant roaches were a testament to that.

He sat down on the ruined remains of the bed then, the painful twangs in his back getting persistent enough he needed to stop. It was the original owners master bedroom from the looks of it and the size of the bed. Even thought the mattress was severely thin with blankets rotted down to nothing, he didn't care. He just sat down on the part that didn't have countless springs poking through and started rifling through the comic. He didn't even really like Grognak but there was a relieving feeling of normalcy in just reading a comic book. 

It was something Johnny needed, as he felt strangely in shock; like how he'd felt right after being shot in the spine. Just an overwhelming numbness in his body and his brain struggling to understand what had just happened. A bullet in the back and a brief, stunned moment when he saw blood on his hand before collapsing. He couldn't even remember hitting the pavement.

Shoving away those ugly memories he turned his attention back to the comic, noting how even after two centuries it was still so recognizable. Even flipping through the pages it still had colour and strong lines. The plot wasn't very good, mostly just following Grognak carving his way through countless monstrous enemies with his trusty axe. _At least that hasn't changed._

Once he'd bored himself with it the muscles in his back had settled and he explored the rest of the house without further issue. It was typical Sanctuary dwelling with a kitchen, lounge, two bedrooms, bathroom and storage room. The mirror was still intact in the bathroom, surprisingly, and Johnny hesitantly peered at his reflection; he looked oddly unchanged from when he'd last seen himself, with dark smudges beneath his blue eyes and messy red hair strewn across his forehead and down his neck. His lips were chapped and Johnny pressed a thumb onto his plump lower lip, briefly showing his teeth and gums before leaving. There was a brief urge to punch the mirror but the last thing he needed was a cut up hand.

Some of the walls in the master bedroom were broken, rotted, showing the cracked pavement outside. The remaining bedroom had an old cot, the paint peeling and the mobile having a single plastic spaceship still dangling from it. Johnny flicked the little spaceship with a finger, watching as it bobbed up and down on the metal arm with a faint squeaking noise. After a moment of watching the mobile he turned and rummaged through the drawers against the wall, finding a tattered baby book but nothing of real use. There was also something underneath the drawers, the yellow edge poking out from underneath it. He crouched down, grimacing slightly as his hips ached before he fished out the small square object.

It was a holotape, dusty but still usable. Popping open the player on his Pip-Boy Johnny slid in the holotape and began to play it, a strange man's voice suddenly loud in the quietness of the destroyed neighbourhood and house.

_'Oops, haha. Keep those little fingers away... Ah, there we go. Just say it, right there, right there, go ahead. Ah, yay! Hi honey, listen...I don't think Shaun and I need to tell you how great of a mother you are. But, we're going to anyway. You are kind, and loving, and funny, that's right, and patient.'_

Johnny stopped the tape there, ejecting it and tossing it back where he found it. He had no desire to listen to the voice of a dead man talking to his dead wife with his toddler burbling in the background.

Leaving the house Johnny went and stood in the middle of the street, unsure of what to do. He could leave the town but quite frankly he was entirely unfamiliar with the landscape; he never left the town beyond surgery or health issues and that was always by car. Also it seemed all the nearby forests and trees had been blasted and blackened. There was also the animal issue, with the giant roaches. He had no idea how that'd affected local wildlife. 

He looked over at the house, to where the Mister Handy was still trying to trim the dead hedge before dismissing it. Walking back across the town towards the roundabout and huge dead tree Johnny stopped at one of the driveways that instead snaked up between two houses and up over the hill towards a thick clump of spindly trees. His parents house was up on the hill behind Sanctuary at the end of that driveway, the opposite side of where Vault 111 was located. It had been an old large estate, something his father had brought after his wealth increased during the decade long war. Johnny hated the house but had been stuck there after his injury even though neither of his parents wanted him. However his father couldn't throw him out without ruining his reputation somewhat so instead he just ignored his son for as long as he was there. Johnny didn't mind, he preferred it quite frankly.

But the house had been old, well built. It had survived over the centuries even before the bombs fell and given routine maintenance and upgrades to keep it strong and enforced. It most likely was still standing, especially since many of the houses in Sanctuary were still somewhat whole despite the proximity of the nuke. 

Johnny certainly didn't have any delusions about his parents still being alive- he still was fairly unconvinced two hundred years had passed but knew enough that radiation had probably killed a lot of people following the bombs. All those television ads harped that up along with the kind of wild weather that would follow nuclear warfare. Though frankly the skies were still blue enough so he wasn't sure how true that was. _Maybe they just ramped up the panic over the resulting damage?_ Johnny was unsure since he'd been outside for not even two hours.

Still, he kept casting uneasy looks towards the way leading to his family's house, digging his nails into his arm. A more rational argument rose in his mind, about how there were countless heavy duty safes and rooms in the house designed to provide basic protect against radiation and nuclear attacks that would provide food and other needs. True, the bombs detonated far closer than anticipated but there was a chance something survived and he was slowly realizing he was hungry and still wearing that ridiculous Vault suit. A change of clothes and food would be more than welcomed but at the same time he wasn't sure if he would find his parents or whatever remained in the house. 

However there was nothing else for him to do in the empty town so Johnny swallowed back a deep sense of unease and anxiety before starting the trek up towards the house.

* * *


	4. Time for grave digging

* * *

The mansion was still standing two centuries later. 

It was old even before the war, made from dense compact brick and two stories tall. A long stone fence ringed the estate but the entry iron gates were bent and broken enough Johnny was easily able to step through. The mansion had only superficial damage, with the many tall windows cracked or shattered but Johnny couldn't see any broken or collapsed walls. Even the front door was intact beside some scratches and a broken handle. It still opened on rusty hinges with a great deal of pushing from him.

Instead there was dust and dirt, but still no people. He wandered around the main hall and prowling around the ground floor. The mansion had always been overly large and a giant waste of space in his opinion but his father had wanted to brag about his wealth, and one way to do that was via a giant homestead. He never left his room after being banished home after his initial release from hospital and his parents were content with ignoring his presence in their house, so he hadn't really just walked around the mansion. He only really did it as a teen before being disowned and then did his best to vehemently ignore any memory of the place.

Still, he remembered the living hall which still had the dinner table and chairs set up. The pedestals and their countless sculptures were set up but many were collapsed or cracked. He hesitated before shoving over a fifteenth century Persian vase and watched it shatter across the floor. He always hated that ugly thing.

Nothing was drawn by the abrupt noise and Johnny kicked one of the pieces of the vase, making it skid across the ground. Slowly he hobbled around the living hall, noting how the huge drapes guarding the windows were mattered and moth eaten. Some of the windows themselves were broken with lightning bolt cracks running through the thick glass but surprisingly many were intact.

"Guess the cleaners aren't here to do basic shit, huh dad?" Johnny said loudly. His voiced echoed through the hall and through the house but nothing reacted. He expected _something_ , maybe even those horrid giant bugs, to be inside but there was no sign of activity. But as he left and went down the halls and checking the rooms the more he became convinced there was nothing living in the mansion, just like with Sanctuary.

The kitchen was next, and it was as large as he remembered but the lights were broken and many of the cupboards cracked and hanging open. The marble benches were caked in dust and the stove was rusted beyond repair. The fridge was slightly ajar and when he peeked inside it was empty beside a huddle of empty bottles. The same was said for the pantry and all the cupboards, much to his frustration. There were some lumps he thought were long rotted food that he steered clear of, and there was a drawer full of slightly rusted knives and cutlery. In the last cupboard he checked however he found several bottles of whisky, dusty but still full of the amber liquid. As tempting as it was to get drunk, he reluctantly put back the bottle and left the kitchen.

Many of the other rooms were only filled with basics or were used as storage or offices. His father's trading and horse racing businesses always took up a sizable chunk of his life, with countless little underlings to micromanage the more finicky details. The rooms now were cold and dark with computers, and countless papers and thick books stacked high. To his surprise some of the computers still functioned even if the power was off to the majority of the estate thought after some thought it made sense. Logically the backup generator would give priority to the computers as they had all the business information stored on them. He spitefully shoved one of them over as well, up heaving the entire desk along with it before leaving the room.

The ground floor didn't have any bedrooms beyond his single one at the far end of the mansion. It wasn't the one he grew up in, instead being outfitted with his countless post-surgery equipment and the bare minimum. There were no personal effects beyond a television, with peeling white walls. Johnny sat down on the bed in the middle of the room, the springs creaking slightly with his weight. All the medicine he'd be given was locked in a safe in the small room next door, something only the live in nurse could access despite his fumbling at the handle but it refused to budge with a lack of code and he couldn't be bothered looking for it. However besides the nurse he was largely left to his own devices. His parents never spoke or interacted with him. He'd stay in the room for days on end, having his food delivered and only really seeing the nurse or servants. The attached bathroom meant he never had to move far. Usually he only left for surgery or physiotherapy when he regained mobility in his legs.

Even after two centuries Johnny was so sure he could smell the ugly sterile odour of the room. It was most likely just his subconscious but bile rose in his throat anyway. Before he had a chance to throw up Johnny left the room, ignoring the urge to slam the door shut as he went.

Getting to the second floor was annoying as he'd always hated stairs after his surgery and the way his hips would ache made him feel like a geriatric old man. When he reached the top he had to sit down on the landing for a minute until the twangs of pain ebbed away, dragging himself back up onto his feet with a grunt and continuing his search.

He made a beeline for his old room, one he'd grown up in. The door wasn't locked so he opened it easily enough despite the creaking of rusted hinges and then found out it hadn't been lived in for years. Instead his old bedroom had been turned into a makeshift storage room, filled with old computer equipment, chairs, a beat up old heater and miscellaneous junk. He couldn't even muster up the energy to be angry, knowing his parents had thrown out everything that had been his when his father kicked him out of the house. All his medals and trophies, anything personal, had no doubt been tossed in the trash. He just felt strangely hollow as he picked his way carefully around the junk, trying to find anything that used to belong to him.

The only thing he found was the large sealed safe wedged into the corner. A pile of old curtains obscured it and it took him five minutes to finally dig it out from underneath. The safe was filthy, clearly long forgotten, but to his surprise it opened when he put in the combination. He was even more surprised to find the items inside were still intact even after two hundred years. Seemed having shelled out so much for one of the more durable safes turned out quite well. Either way he felt strange, pulling out the pile of old clothes from inside the safe with a heap of notes still on the bottom. It had been the result of his usual petty fighting with his father, who always droned on about dressing how they lived. Johnny couldn't be bothered with all the expensive tailored crap that he needed five measurement bookings to remotely fit properly.

"Houses are shit but these survive..." Johnny muttered, running his hands over the rough fabric of the pants. At least it gave him a reason to get out of the Vault suit, which was still profoundly ugly despite the warm heavy material. 

He got changed with no incident, pleased the clothes still fit him; heavy dark blue pants, thick leather boots and a coal black short sleeved hoodie. There were also the green fabric cuffs for his wrists, which he'd always use back before the War to hide his scars; the Pip-Boy covered his left wrist easy enough but he pulled on the right one before tucking the remaining cuff into one of his pockets. Then pulled on the woolen black beanie, the edges of his fringe still falling across his forehead. Then he looked over the discarded blue Vault suit, running his hand over the golden _111_ emblazoned on the back.

After a moment of dithering he folded the lower end of Vault suit over the middle before tying the arms around his waist. While it was ugly at least the additional fabric would protect his lower spine somewhat if he got knocked over. That or use it as a pillow. He was fairly sure hotels didn't survive. For the money he jammed fistfuls of it in his pockets before walking down the hallway, the thick carpet tattered and filthy, until he stopped in front of a specific door.

Nicolas's room.

Johnny knew Nicolas wouldn't care if he entered it which was the main motivation over hesitantly going inside. He had to remind himself his parents were long gone so he didn't have to worry about being screamed at but he still shuddered when he was inside. The last time he'd been in the room hadn't exactly been pleasant.

Unlike his own room, which had been turned into a storage room with everything he owned being tossed away, Nicolas's was basically a tomb. Everything was the same, if not fairly more dusty and worn than he remembered it last being due to the centuries. Johnny hesitantly sat on his older brother's bed, blankets falling apart and headboard rusted. However there was still Nicolas's countless racing trophies neatly lined up and photo frames holding dozens of newspaper articles of his achievements as a jockey. His brother's room had always been taken care of, maids dusting it routinely even a decade after Nicolas's death.

His fingers dug into the half rotted duvet, mouth a thin line and a lump in his throat. It was something he always repeatedly tried to tell himself, to get over it. But it still hurt, even after two centuries, knowing that his parents cared more about their long dead son then they ever did their remaining living one. Though even when Nicolas was alive their father still shouted him over inane things but then as soon as he was dead it was as if they forgot who he even was and just martyred him. 

Johnny hadn't been inside Nicolas's room since the day he was disowned and just sitting there made a strange emotion settle in his gut. He was fairly sure he was only a few moments from bursting into tears, so with that in mind he left the room. There was too many complicated emotions mixed up with that place and a part of Johnny resented his parents for twisting up Nicolas's memory so much. His brother didn't deserve that crap. 

The other rooms were just lavish wastes of space for leisure, numerous bathrooms and some spare bedrooms for guests. There was also the master bedroom, his parents room, which he lingered outside the door of. He felt stupidly nervous, even though it was two hundred years. There was no way anyone was left and the proximity of the nuclear bomb meant they'd most likely died soon after due to radiation. He didn't even like his parents, he'd left for the Vault without a backwards glance when the emergency broadcast came across the television.

There were, however, two skeletons in the master bedroom. The bones were an ugly dark brown and partially covered in rotted clothes, sprawled across the filthy carpet in awkward angles.

He lingered in the doorway, eyeing the remains nervously. For all he knew they were just the bones of some scavengers or people who succumbed to radiation. Potentially. After all he didn't even know what his parents had been wearing when they'd died and the clothes were so rotted it was difficult to know what they'd been originally. He learned against the doorway, fingers digging into the wood as he stared at the two skeletons lying on the floor.

Leaving the doorway he went back to where his old room had been, grabbing two large rubbish bags and going back to the master bedroom. Using the broken length of a lamp he managed to shove the skeletons into either bag, gagging at the noise of bones knocking against each other. Struggling to prevent himself from vomiting he took the bags downstairs and left through the rear door that led to the gardens.

Once the gardens had been prized, countless rare flowers, well kept hedges, personal gardeners and huge blooming trees. Now everything was brown, flowerbeds blackened. Walking across the garden he stopped near the perimeter fence and put down the bags, before he walked to the curling iron gates leading towards the fields at the back of the estate. That as where the lavish horse stables were, once used to care for many of the expensive and valuable steeds his father bred and raced. 

The stables were larger than the homes down in Sanctuary but just as empty and broken. Many of the stalls had the remains of horses, large skeletons slumped on the floor in awkward piles. Most likely the horses had starved to death or died from the radiation. Ignoring the stalls he went to the back where the storage rooms were which was filled with countless horse paraphernalia. The leather saddles and tack had rotted somewhat but many were still recognizable. There was also the tap in the far wall, used for filling buckets for the horse troughs. He was surprised to find the stables still had clean water, it spluttering out of the tap with a gurgle and splutter but ran clear and radiation free. Cupping his hand under the tap he took several thirsty mouthfuls, water dripping down his chin before he switched the tap off off. 

Then he grabbed the shovel leaning against the wall, hefting it up in both hands. He was about to leave back to the garden when he stopped, looking out towards the exit that led to the training paddocks and racing track.

Johnny knew it was a bad idea but he hobbled through the rear exit of the stables, squinting through the sunlight as he searched out for a specific paddock. It was one of the smaller ones close to the stables, circled with a wooden fence that was mostly destroyed and useless.

It was the paddock that usually housed Slow Dancer, his old bitter-tempered mare. She'd been something he used for physical therapy, to stretch and regain muscles anthropoided by months of lying in a hospital bed. She'd thrown him into a fence the first time he got onto her back, causing a massive wood splinter to puncture through his shin much to the panic of the nearby stable hands. Johnny didn't care, a part of him welcoming her suborn attitude and was one of the reasons he picked her. It reminded him of how he'd break in the more wild horses before he got shot, which he enjoyed doing in his spare time. The Appaloosa was certainly cranky for her age but he'd grown more and more fond of her over the months of riding her. He usually would take her on the numerous riding trails winding through the vast forest at the back of Sanctuary, on the days his body would tolerate it.

When he ventured closer Johnny could see in the middle of the paddock was a horse skeleton, lying on its side and partially overgrown with dry brown weeds and small white flowers. He had little doubt it was her.

It had been a long shot but a part of him had been hoping there would be some horses left but beside from the skeletons there was no indication any survived just like with the human beings. He lingered in the middle of the lifeless field for a long moment, fingers flexing on the ragged handle of the shovel, before slowly leaving back to the bags of bones.

By the time he made mildly shallow graves by the stone fence the muscles in his arms burned and his back had given out twenty minutes in. He ended up having to finish while kneeling, awkwardly digging up the stale dry dirt and tossing it to the pile on the side. When Johnny finally finished- the graves were fairly wonky and more square shaped but whatever -he had to sit for nearly five minutes until his legs finally responded.

He did throw up at one point, dropping the bags of bones to retch onto a nearby scrub. Something in him just twisted up horrifically at knowing those were human remains he was dragging around but after hacking up some more bile he forced himself back to his task, tossing the two bags into either grave. The ratting noises of the bones nearly made him throw up again but he swallowed down the urge thickly, skin flushed, before managing to pick up the shovel again. 

Then he started the arduous task of filling in the graves, shoulders burning as he shoveled the dirt on top of the bags. By the time he was finished his fingers were cramping and his back was a pained mess. However his legs didn't give out, so after tossing the shovel to the side Johnny stumbled over to the dead remains of the garden. Ripping off countless dried vines and small broken branches form one of the trees he hobbled back to the graves and sat down. Then he spent nearly ten minutes making makeshift crosses, laying the branches across each other and tying them together with the vines. The vines were old and dead enough many broke but there was enough to keep them in place after a great deal of fumbling.

Roughly he jammed the two crosses at the head of each grave. They were wonky and rough but recognizable. Johnny never believed but his parents did. Another thing they threw in his face every so often.

He ended up sitting there for a minute, at first looking at the graves then towards the towering stone fence. A few yards down one of the walls had collapsed and all he could see were more of the burnt trunks of trees of the forest. The blue sky was now completely clear, without even any clouds to mar it, and Johnny noted how the sun was inching its way towards the horizon. A check of his Pip-Boy confirmed it was rapidly heading towards evening despite the warmth of the air. He really should go back inside and find somewhere to sleep considering the fact all the digging had left him aching and short tempered.

"You were a terrible father, you know that?" Johnny suddenly said to the dual graves. Shakily he got up to his feet, his spine aching with the movement. The churning mess of emotions that had started to build inside of him ever since he stepped foot back in the mansion swelled up, making his vision narrow and breath come in tight wheezes. He was still in some state of shock, struggling to reconcile the dead blown up town of Sanctuary and family home with something that had been alive, lived in, from his perspective only hours ago. But now his parents were dead and he'd just buried their bones.

His hands were shaking so Johnny curled them into fists even as his vision blurred with hot tears,"'God took the wrong son' you remember saying that right to my face, dad? You really believed that, didn't you? And it was all over an argument about fucking _boots_ that you said that and then disowned me. It was only after I got shot that you cared- oh right, I mean you feigned caring because you cherished your reputation more than me. Your rich friends always praised you over that, didn't you? I could hear them sometimes when in my room, recovering from surgery or in such pain I couldn't sleep. Praising you for taking in your troubled, violent drug-addled son. Lavishing you up as if you even gave a shit."

It was sudden, Johnny managing to speak about everything he'd kept bottled up inside for years, but then when he started he found he just couldn't stop; all the fury, shame and resentfulness he felt for his father for as long as he could remember suddenly came pouring out, like a river of venom which had been dammed for far too long and finally got free, swelling up in his throat with the sour taste of bile and coming out in words of fury.

"All those times you bitched me out for not being enough like Nicolas." He ground out, voiced strained and cold, "Fuck you, did you somehow think I didn't miss him too? He was my best friend, my older brother, but you kept throwing him in my face. Always comparing me to him because that's just what your kid wants, doesn't it? To be constantly compared to a dead sibling. I would never be good enough, would I? Nothing I ever did would be good enough for you. Right from the start I was the worse son, the messed up fake son, and then when Nicolas died it was all my fault and nothing I ever did would compete with him. Did matter how many races I won or derbies I finished, I was just the shitty consolation prize and always would be."

He gave the other grave an angry look, "Oh and don't worry mother, maybe you weren't as bad but you never did anything to stop dad from yelling at me or just ignored everything. Instead when he started ridiculing me you'd just sit there with that sad look on your face. Like what the hell kind of mother were you? You were supposed to fucking _protect_ me but instead you just stayed out of it. Some mother you were. Why'd you even have children if you never gave a shit about us in the first place? Even when Nicolas was alive when dad started up at us you'd do nothing. You're so fucking spineless. Even when I got back home you never spoke to me. I figured maybe you would've grown a backbone but guess you just hated me like dad did and wished I'd been the one who died instead. You just never said it out loud so bully for you I guess." 

With a shaky sob Johnny scrubbed at his face with his wrist, the tears leaving hot wet tracks down his face, before he glared at the two graves, "You know what, fuck the two of you. Screw everything you two did to me, you were terrible. Like for fuck's sake I was your son as well but you didn't care. Even after I got shot. Like yeah, I'd been shitty after you kicked me out but how fucking hard would it have been to visit me in hospital when I was half delirious from pain? Or even just send a goddamn card going 'oh that sucks'? Instead you did nothing. The only reason you even took me back was gripe over your friends, didn't want to spoil that precious reputation. Even back home you never talked to me, just acted like I wasn't even there. As if I was already dead even whenever I was crying from the pain or hallucinating from all the drugs injected into me I was always ignored. Probably wished that bullet killed me or I died in surgery so you could get on with your lives without me fucking everything up for you."

With a pained noise he got back up to his feet, face blotchy and tears dripping off his chin to the dusty ground below. The venom in his words nearly burned his tongue even as he shakily grabbed the shovel, "Guess I got the last laugh huh? All your shit about how 'God took the wrong son' well jokes on you, I'm the only one to survive the damn apocalypse. Guess God doesn't have a problem with me, not like you bitching me out constantly over shit I never did or how useless I was! I was just a fucking burden for you two, wasn't I?!"

He raised the shovel about his head and with a strangled snarl smashed it against the makeshift crosses, sending shock waves reverberating up his arms. Ignoring it he started beating the shovel hard against the crosses, breaking them and sending splinters of wood flying. Even when the crosses were broken into countless pieces he kept on slamming the shovel onto the raised dirt of the graves until the palms of his hands were torn from the rough handle and dripping blood. Then the shovel flew out of his grasp, the blood making it so slippery, and Johnny stumbled backwards before falling heavily onto his side.

For almost a minute he lay there, sniffling and shaking from his churning emotions. The torn skin of his hands stung painfully while blood seeped into the lines of his palms and fingers. Sucking in a shaky breath Johnny shifted up onto his knees, leaning over with his hands digging into the ground.

Eventually Johnny got back up to his feet, eyes heavily bloodshot and cheeks tear streaked. He rubbed his hands together, the blood and dirt mixing together to look like reddish clay staining his palms and fingers. The shovel was half lodged into the churned up ground of one of the graves and he felt no desire to remove it. Instead he spent nearly ten seconds looking at his bloody palms before a tear dripped off his jaw and onto his hand. Angrily he swiped at his face, uncaring of the dirt and blood he smeared across it.

He looked out across what was once the lavish gardens of the estate, but instead were now filled with scant scrub, brown grass and dead trees. Far off into the distance something let out a long, ringing cry even as a small flock of blackbirds flew past in the sky high above.

His gaze shifted back to the two graves and the crushed remains of the makeshift crosses and thought about the bones buried beneath. 

When he finally managed to speak, his voice was low and cold as he addressed the two graves, "I'd rather wander around this irradiated shithole of a world than spend a single fucking second rotting in the ground by you two. Fuck you, the next time I see you both it'll be in hell."

With a final spiteful gesture Johnny spat on the graves before storming back into the mansion, face streaked in blood, dirt and tears. Then he found himself back in the kitchen, dragging out the whiskey bottles and drank and drank and drank until he blacked out.

* * *


	5. On the road

* * *

Johnny deeply regretted his decision when he woke up the next morning. He threw up several times when he regained muzzy consciousness, mostly pale bile that left his throat burning, and his skull felt like it was about to explode while his mouth was as dry as sandpaper. Usually he could hold liquor extremely well but drowning down so much- especially whiskey so old -really knocked him down.

Having half crawled half stumbled his way through the house to the stables he managed to get to the water tap, hungrily gulping down as much water as he could handle without choking. He threw up again but it was water so it didn't burn as much and leaned against the rotting wall feeling sorry for himself while taking periodic gulps of water. He also washed his hands, scrubbing off the dried blood and dirt.

He ended up falling asleep, on the dirty stable floors and slumped against a wall like a drunkard. However when he woke up later he felt far better, the agony in his head shifting to a dry ache. He spent twenty minutes just sitting up against the wall, sipping down two bottles of water until his mouth wasn't as parched. Honestly he'd forgotten how dry whiskey made him. Tasted better with ice but whatever.

With a grunt Johnny forced himself up to his feet, wobbly and sore but at least mildly sober. Now he was overwhelmed with a different feeling, compared with the anxiety and spite from earlier, and just wanted to get away from the mansion. Squinting blearily outside the stables he realized it was barely dawn, the stars still visible through the purple and orange of sunrise, meaning he'd slept for the entire night in a drunken stupor. Luck it hadn't been full daylight when he did his hungover stumble from the mansion to stables or his eyes probably would've burnt out.

Hobbling back inside, he started ransacking the storage pen in the stables, trying to figure how if there was anything worth taking. The saddles were no real use, neither were the tack, but rummaging through the supplies he found a worn travel pack. The leather was rubbed and an ugly brown but it sat easily against his shoulders with an additional strap across his chest as a backpack and had numerous additional pockets sewn onto it. He did another trip into the mansion, grabbing the empty plastic bottles he'd ignored in his first search and then going through the task of filling up the plastic bottles with the clean water before storing them in the pack in a neat row. He also took one of the hoof picks, putting it in one of the side pockets. 

Strapping the bag on he then went back into the mansion, making a beeline for the nurse's room on the ground floor.

After ransacking the nurse's room he eventually found a slip of curled yellow paper with four numbers scribbled on it hidden in the back of the bookcase and used it to break into the small safe underneath the table. Inside was only a few chems, two Med-X, three stimpacks and a bottle of Rad-X. He was wary of the Med-X, having gone through painkiller addiction and withdrawal before via his long stays in surgery and recovery but took it anyway; he would probably need something to numb pain at some point. 

_Better safe than sorry,_ he thought, zipping the chems up in the front pocket.

He also took one of the remaining whiskey bottles and the rusted kitchen knife. Johnny felt like he'd need more alcohol in the future and slid the knife into one of his belt loops. He then used the one left behind to clean the palms of his hands before injecting one of the stimpacks into his wrist, knowing that the injury could cause issues with his gun use. The sore, torn skin rapidly sealed over until it was smooth and healed and he tucked the empty syringe into his pants pocket. 

Shaking off the drops of liquor Johnny then rose to his feet and left the mansion without a backwards glance.

* * *

The weather was still beautiful and clear, something that was in contrast with the broken landscape. Only a slight refreshing breeze and blue skies even as daylight settled heavily over the wasteland. 

Johnny was still fairly hungover but his heavy water drinking did wonders and he spent his time walking through Sanctuary sipping on one of the water bottles. He left the town through the side rather than going over the bridge, skipping past Vault 111 and ransacking some of the cars he'd been too in shock to do when he first surfaced. The Nuka-Colas he took, storing them next to the whisky before continuing down southwest from the Vault.

His leather boots easily dealt with the cracked dry earth most of the lush green had been replaced with but Johnny took his time walking over the landscape. The stimpacks would heal cuts and bruises but broken bones were beyond their skill. All it would take was an awkward fall to break something and then he'd be fucked so he tried to be more careful than normal with his footing across the land. 

Despite the environment being ravaged by the nuclear fallout there was still numerous birds flying around. He felt oddly gladdened when he saw another flock of blackbirds flying overhead, their cries ringing through the otherwise quiet sounds of nature.

He didn't spot any larger animals though as he slowly made his way down south. It made him a little uneasy considering the giant roaches he'd encountered but for all he knew the larger animals died from the bombs and lack of food. He rather hoped that was the case considering he knew there had been bears and wolves in the area before the bombs dropped.

Twice he had to stop, sitting down on a log to sip at his water until the telling twangs in his lower spine went away. It was peaceful and reminded him of how he'd take Slow Dancer on rides, usually easy walks through the forest behind the estate. Just an easy tranquility that Johnny fervently embraced after his meltdown back at his family home. He just tried not to think about it, distracting himself from dwelling upon what happened by exploring the landscape and hopefully finding anyone else.

The river was easy enough to follow, the soothing sound of running water accompanying the crunch of his boots on the dried ground. He was walking for another ten minutes before he spotted what looked like a cabin on the opposite side of the river, the wooden back facing him. He dithered by the riverbank before deciding to investigate, carefully easing down the bank to where the river was thin and barely ankle high. He was able to keep his boots dry by clambering across the large rocks poking above the water with a great deal of awkward flailing and hopping.

Despite the lack of apparent wildlife in the area he was cautious in scouting out the cabin. Johnny wasn't very subtle in anything he'd done, but tried to creep around behind the trunks of trees before he got to the back of the building. There was an immensely rusted workbench shoved up against the wooden boards and he quickly looked it over but there was only some screws and old duct tape so he moved on.

Keeping his hand on the butt of his pistol he sidled around the side of the cabin, keeping himself low despite the strain in his back. He pressed himself up against the wall, trying to see if he could hear anything moving around inside but all that was audible was the creaking of tree branches in the wind.

He poked his head into the cabin but the interior was bland and broken. Johnny relaxed, the tension slipping from his body before he ventured inside. It was a basic wooden cabin with only a single room, a set of drawers on one side and a dress-clad skeleton lying on the rotten heap on a mattress near the back wall alongside a battered travel case. He unclipped the suitcase but the only thing inside was a holotape blackened on one corner but when he slotted it into his Pip-Boy it started with no problem, the stressed voice of a young woman playing through the empty cabin.

_'October 22, 2077. I finally told them tonight and it was bad. Real bad. Dad was shouting, telling me I should be ashamed, that I had to get out of the house. Mom just cried and somehow that hurt worse than anything else. She didn't say a word, not even when I packed my things. I can't go to John-- he doesn't even know yet. Maybe he'll never know. If it weren't for the cabin I wouldn't have a place to sleep. Just need some time to think. Last time I was here I was just a little girl playing clubhouse in this old cabin. Now I'm really scared. Will anything ever be right again?'_

"Guess we both had shitty parents," Johnny said tiredly to the skeleton as he ejected the tape. No doubt the remains of the young woman who was run from her home. She had been there before the War and Johnny wondered how she'd died. Was it quick, in the blast? Or did she die slowly from the radiation? Or maybe she had a weapon and took her own life when she saw the bomb detonate on the horizon?

He wondered if her parents had tried to find her after the bomb hit or if they just didn't care. 

Searching the rest of the cabin didn't show any promise or helpful items so he left back out the front door. His brooding made him far less unaware so when he went down the steps of the cabin the sharp _snap_ of a twig breaking caused him to jump and nearly trip, jerking around to see a large animal staring at him a few feet away.

He roughly yanked his pistol from the leather holster, but fumbled and promptly dropped it with a curse. Quickly he stooped down, snatching it back up and then pointing it at the source of the noise.

It was a deer.

In an instant Johnny felt immensely stupid, freaking out so much over a deer. It was brown furred with gangly limbs but he relaxed slightly before something clicked in his mind and he realized why there was something _wrong_.

The deer had two heads, both watching him curiously with large black eyes. The left most head was slightly smaller with deformed forelegs jutting out of the base of its neck, the hooves waving back and forwards as the deer stared at him. It was a doe, Johnny was sure, due to the lack of antlers but for all he knew the radiation had messed that up as well.

He dithered on whether or not to shoot the ugly thing when the deer turned and bounded off down the hill in long graceful leaps, easily clearing the burnt logs and weaving through the dried tree trunks. He watched the mutated deer as it rapidly vanished into the distance with the drumming of hooves and heavy wheezes.

Awkwardly he put the pistol back in the holster, trying to sooth his shaking hands. He had been so freaked out by a damn _deer_ of all things, and all it had done was run away when he'd looked at it. Also the added bonus of him dropping his pistol, if the thing had been a giant wolf or something he'd probably gotten mauled.

Shaking if off Johnny left the cabin, crossing back over the river and continued on his trek towards the south.

* * *

It was three hours before he found another creature, making his way slowly through the rusty brown land when he heard the noise of breaking earth. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of more of those mutated deer, some with antlers but mostly does. All had the mutated additional head and some even had no fur but instead exposed sandy red flesh. They were curious with him but to Johnny's relief they weren't hostile. His pistol and knife wouldn't be much use against a herd of angry deer.

However the thing that attacked him came from the ground, burrowing up in a flurry of dirt and long yellow teeth only a few feet from his left side.

It was a naked mole rat, the size of a dog, which immediately started running straight towards him with weird huffing snarls. Johnny shifted back, upholstering his pistol with jerky movements. He missed the first shot, as the thing was faster than he thought possible and by then it was within arms reach. It launched itself up and tried to bite him but instead ended up clamping its jaws around his Pip-Boy. It yanked hard, nearly knocking him over, but Johnny braced his legs before unloading an entire clip point blank into the thing's skull, sending blood and flesh flying everywhere.

Even dead it kept a grip on his forearm and he had to pry the horrid thing off with his hands, kicking the repulsive thing away from him. Its skin was slightly translucent, showing bulging veins beneath the baggy skin and its long blunt teeth were the same length as one of his fingers. Johnny kept his gun in hand as he edged backwards, peaking down the hole it had scrambled out of. He threw down a rock but nothing else came scurrying up to attack him so after a moment he relaxed minutely.

Looking back to the mole rat he nudged it with his boot, gagging slightly at the mess its head was. _Giant roaches, deformed deer and now killer mole rats. What the hell is next?_

He was nervous for the next ten minutes, convinced another one of the giant rats were going to burst out of the ground and try mauling him. However the further he traveled the more he thought none were following so eventually he holstered his weapon after double checking the clip. He also realized he was getting increasingly hungry; while he had enough water to last a few more days he had no food on him. He could go back and try eating that horrible giant rat thing but truthfully Johnny had no idea how to skin an animal. He also had nothing to start a fire with and felt eating mutated animal wasn't exactly the wisest decision despite the bottle of Rad-X he had in his backpack. Just his luck to survive the nuclear apocalypse only to die from food poisoning later on. 

From how ruined the trees and ground was Johnny was also unsure if there was anything edible growing anymore, but changed his priority from wandering to actively searching for food. He did come across another of the deer, one with large antlers and a strange greenish hide but like with the mole rat he had no knowledge on how to prepare meat. That and he figured it would take some time to shoot the thing's head in and he didn't have ammunition to spare.

However as he internally dithered over food he didn't notice the weather slowly turning until he tripped over a rock, nearly falling. With a curse he grabbed onto the branch of a nearby tree which nearly snapped from his weight but nonetheless held. Johnny leaned against the tree, eyes shut as he breathed slowly and steadily before a strange grumbling noise snagged his attention.

It wasn't nearby, instead distant and muted. Confused he righted himself, looking around for the source of the noise before he looked over his shoulder and then cursed. The blue skies were getting thick with an approaching storm front and Johnny realized the noise was distant thunder.

For a long moment Johnny couldn't figure out what was bothering him with the approaching storm until it finally clicked; the roiling clouds rapidly heading towards him were _green._ A deep poisonous green occasionally made vivid with bolts of lightning.

He wasn't sure what was within the storm but wasn't eager to find out. Quickly he hurried forward, trying to find any abandoned building to take shelter in. For all he knew the storm was acid rain and would sear his skin, or a giant radiation cloud that was formed into a hurricane. 

Moving at a jog quickly made his spine protest, ripples of pain radiating from his implant through his hips and knees. By the time he got his way through a cluster of dead trees and past a massive crash of ancient buses, one of his legs had started to seize as the muscles began to contract but he was lucky enough to stumble upon a long abandoned homestead. 

The house itself had been completely burned down, only a large patch of charred wood and scored earth showed where it had once stood, however the front yard still had the rough vines of plants with reddish fruit dotting a dozen of them. A utility shed was on the opposite side of orchard, door crooked but stable and still standing despite the centuries. 

Wheezing awkwardly Johnny leaned against one of the support struts for the plants, his leg muscles twitching sporadically as he tried to regain his breath. Looking at the horizon the storm was still rapidly approaching but should be at least several minutes before it hit, which gave him enough time to relax somewhat- or at least until his back stopped feeling like it was about to give out. He was about to go into the shed with his gut clenched painfully from his hunger so he hesitated, instead turning to inspect the strange fruit growing from the ragged vines.

It looked like a lumpy, oddly squashed tomato. It was firmer than he thought a tomato would be but scanning it with his Pip-Boy revealed no radiation or problems so he swallowed back his unease took as many he could carry before going over to the shed. To his relief the door wasn't locked, opening to a small shed. It was mostly filled with rusty farming equipment but there were a row of sacks filled with fertilizer against one wall which he sat down on, putting the strange fruit down next to him.

He picked one up, sniffing at it curiously; it could sit in his palm as easily as an apple but was like a ugly lumpy tomato. Either way he was hungry enough to bite into it, the fruit being dense like raw potato.

It tasted absolutely disgusting.

Gagging violently he jerked it away, spitting out the mouthful of fruit onto the floor. It was one of the most rancid things he'd ever eaten and he'd eaten some fairly foul things throughout his life, some on dares or drunken benders. Grimacing in disgust he looked at the gut of the fruit which was a dense reddish flesh and oozing slightly. 

Then the boom of thunder was directly above the shed, rattling the walls and making him jump while dropping the strange fruit onto the floor. He sat up on the bags of fertilizer, knees drawn to his chest even as the rain began to fall, small and slow and then rapidly turning into a roaring downpour. Through the gap beneath the door he could see the green light seeping through, sickly and poisonous, and occasionally brightened by flashes of lightning. Quickly he checked his Pip-Boy, which at the very least showed he wasn't being poisoned or radiated, before leaning against the wall to try wait out the wild weather. 

His stomach grumbled again and Johnny grimaced, reluctantly picking up one of the tomato things. With slow, reluctant bites he steadily ate the fruit even as the storm rattled the shed.

* * *


	6. Bears are bad news

* * *

It took twenty minutes for the angry storm to pass over head and by the time it was gone the bottom of the shed was flooded. He'd eaten most of the disgusting fruit, for all it tasted like garbage it at least filled his hungry stomach. He also found a pair of binoculars stuffed in the top shelf behind a bucket of paint which he took with him, wearing it on the strap around his neck.

When he went out of the shed the sky was clear again but everything was damp and wet. As much as they tasted horrid Johnny put some of the tomato-like fruit in his bag. Exploring the rest of the burnt house showed a water pump nearly hidden by thick shrub. It took nearly a minute of pumping the handle up and down before it finally spluttered and cough up water. Checking it with his Pip-Boy showed the water was clear and he took the opportunity to refill his bottles and then gulp down as much as he could.

Then he walked off, feeling better with a full stomach and water.

The next few days was most him wandering around the landscape, tentatively checking through abandoned houses, sheds, shacks and countless vehicles. Some he got a bad enough vibe from he left them alone or was disturbed by the remains; he found a car wreck at one point, where a military truck collided head on with a school bus. He had been going to check inside the bus, but had only stepped inside to see the countless undersized skeletons littering the chairs and gangway so he left just as quickly before continuing down the road.

Once he spotted a pack of dogs far in the distance, using his binoculars to spy on them while sitting on the hood of a burnt car. The dogs looked wrong from what little he could see, as if they had no fur with gaunt bodies, but he kept a close eye on them while they circled around a power pylon far in the distance. Eventually they headed east, running off in fast blurs down the hills and becoming lost from view. Even so he waited for nearly give minutes before continuing. 

Most places he found were remote farmsteads or blackened forests. The forests were fairly glum to walk through, just all dead and a few clinging valiantly to life with tiny stubby leaves but they were far crys from the thick lush trees he remembered. Sometimes he was tempted to return to Sanctuary but there were too many ugly memories there. As it was he still refused to think to his fairly embarrassing break down but he didn't forget the whisky. Usually before finding somewhere to sleep he would take a few mouthfuls, the liquor burning his mouth and warming his stomach.

He also spotted a giant scorpion resting out in the sun during his travels, giving him another insight to what the bombs had done to the wildlife. It had only been when he was scanning the horizon for any approaching weather when he noticed the odd shape resting against the white wooden boards of a house far up on the hill. Checking it with his binoculars revealed the odd shape to be a scorpion, tail curled up above its back and pincers resting in front of it. The shell was spiky with a noticeable reddish tint. Comparing it next to the house the thing was clearly the size of a large SUV. He decided to not tempt fate and instead gave the solitary house and its giant scorpion an extremely wide berth.

While traveling he also became closely aware of the weather. Some storms were normal, with lightning and incredibly heavy rain. Johnny made use of those kinds of storms, using it as an impromptu shower via hanging up his clothes and then scrubbing himself down in the rain. It was cold but it made him clean, something he eagerly welcomed. He'd always get fed up with feeling sweaty and gross. Keeping the Vault 111 jumpsuit also turned into a good idea, as when he washed his usual outfit in the rain to wash it he could then wear the suit or vice versa until the other dried. When the sun wasn't obstructed it dried the clothes within an hour so he made use of the rainstorms when they passed. 

There was also something strangely alluring about cleaning himself down naked in the rain, which he found rather funny. At least the lack of people had that benefit of not worrying about someone catching him naked and running around in the torrential rain as if he were drunk. But being clean left him feeling refreshed and relaxed, even if it were cold.

Some of the other storms were like the first he encountered, with the poisonous green clouds. He checked the rain puddles afterward which verified the radiation within it and made a note to not be caught in one of them. Others were heavy dust storms, making everything murky and dirty brown from dust which stung his eyes. Others were just immensely thick fog that made it impossible to see a few feet in front of him.

Most of the time the weather was fair, but the storms were alarmingly quick to appear. But he was learning about the weather, about the wildlife even if he had yet to cross paths with another human despite it nearing a week since he had left Vault 111.

However many times he woke up in the dead of night, with the unnerving conviction that there was _something_ outside of the place he was sleeping in. Something that would smash through the walls and kill him if he made too much noise. When that happened he'd keep himself as still as possible, a white-knuckle grip on his pistol and knife with the hairs on the nape of his neck standing on end. Eventually- once it took nearly half an hour -the feeling would ebb away and he'd finally be able to relax. 

He got into the habit of shoving things in front of the door, usually old filing cabinets or crates, before settling down for the night. Johnny still didn't trust himself traveling around at night with the radiated animals wandering around. If he ran into one of the scorpions he probably wouldn't see a thing before a stinger in the face so he would always begin looking for shelter.

Johnny also took to using the tin cans he found as target practice, even while mindful of his bullets. It was slow work, especially with how paranoid he'd get that something would hear him, but when he had the space and time he took to using his pistol. That was another advantage he found to raiding the old farming houses as they would usually have spare ammunition. Many weren't for his pistol and there was a lack of other guns- probably grabbed by the owners when the bombs dropped, as he had little doubt society went to shit right afterwards with people killing each other left right and centre. But 10mm bullets were something he could find with enough scourging even if he never had enough. But at least his aim was slowly but steadily improving to the point he once killed one of the giant mole rats when finding them at a small digging complex via a bullet in the eye from twenty paces.

There was also more odd fruit he found, purple with golden dried leaves growing from spindly small trees. They tasted a great deal better than the ugly squashed tomatoes though, even if he couldn't figure out what the purple fruit originally were supposed to be. Probably plums or grapes just mutated through time and radiation. On that thought he kept on trying to remember to swallow down a pill of Rad-X each time before eating the odd fruits. Last thing he needed was to become sick through radiation poisoning.

A full week after leaving Vault 111 he found another small town. It was only three shops but quite south-west from Sanctuary. He settled down against an old shop front, legs stretched out in front of him with a grunt. Pulling off his backpack he rifled through it before taking out one of the bottles of Nuka-Cola, sipping on the slightly warm liquid. Across the road a car had crashed into a power pole, the body burnt out and tyres gone while the pole it had rammed into was nearly bent in half. He'd guess the car had either been someone trying to flee or panicked when the bombs had detonated. Wasn't a skeleton inside from what Johnny could see but the remains could've been burnt to cinders with most of the car.

Quite frankly Johnny wasn't sure what to do. He hadn't found any evidence of other people, only the lingering remains. There were animals, mutated but alive, but he hadn't found any human beings. There were countless skeletons, empty buildings and broken vehicles but no actual people.

It made him wonder if there even _were_ people left. For all he knew the US had succeeded in annihilating its own population with its stupid war with China. Humans probably didn't adapt too well to nuclear fallout. Or they'd turned into monsters like the animals, deformed and oversized.

When he was finished with his Nuka-Cola he put the empty bottle on top of the car before going back to the store and upholstering his pistol. Keeping his arms straight he stared down the sight before squeezing the trigger; the bottle exploded in countless glass shards, the noise echoing through the air. Satisfied he holstered his gun and carried on down the street, making a beeline for a house he could see in the distance. He tried to get in the habit of scouting out areas first, especially with his binoculars handy, but thankfully he usually only encountered the roaches inside buildings thus far.

He did get accosted by a malfunctioning Mister Gutsy unit when trying to break into that house. Johnny never really learned how to lock pick so he was failing miserably, the hoofpick jammed into the keyhole and a random screwdriver he found lying on the road. He was so preoccupied with trying to force the lock open he didn't even notice the hoveirng robot until it had gotten right up next to him and started talking, startling him enough he dropped the screwdriver.

"Halt! This area is under martial law by order of provisional governor Graham! Chinese infiltrators are known to be operating in this area," the machine barked at him, "Please provide proof of your identity. Be advised I am authorized to use deadly force if you fail to comply."

"Go fuck yourself you crazy robot," Johnny snapped right back, trying to slow his heart down. He barely even listened to the annoying thing, noticing its dark green paint was chipped and it was missing its middle eye stalk.

"Analyzing...American colloquialism confirmed. Possibility of use by Chinese infiltrator....zero-point-three percent. Thank you. Please report any suspected communists to proper authority immediately. Have a nice day."

Bemused Johnny watched as the robot swung around and carried on down the road, apparently assure he wasn't a threat from his knee-jerk cursing. Belatedly he realized the thing probably would've attacked- and most likely killed -him if it thought he was a communist. He knew how durable those Mister Gutsy units were from all the bragging going on. The fact it was even active two centuries later attested to that.

He watched the robot rapidly vanish down the road before picking back up the screwdriver, turning his attention back to picking a lock.

After trying, and failing, to pick the lock he gave up after ten minutes and instead started walking down the road the Mister Gutsy had traveled down. A kilometre down he found another road splitting off west, but it was graveled and bracketed by trees. Either a remote business or expensive mansion. Either would be a good place to scavenge and though it was midday he wasn't adverse to finding somewhere to settle for the night. All the walking didn't impress his spine either but he made sure to keep aware of the pain. 

The path took him five minutes to reach the end of and he was surprised by the large building at the end. It was an office complex, five stories tall and a ridged rectangular shape. It was surrounded by a small ring of spidery trees and a car park that was filled with nearly a dozen burnt out vehicles. A skeleton was halfway in the building entry, dressed in a ragged old suit and neck at a strange angle. It disgusted him but he grabbed onto the skeleton's pant legs and dragged the skeleton out of the way and then pushed the double doors wide and snibbed them open. 

The foyer had two of the giant roaches scuttling around, to which he blasted their heads off with couple of well placed shots. It was pleasing to know his aim improved so much from his dogged practice but he pushed back his good feeling to start searching the place. Checking the desk front computer showed the place used to be an accountants, though from some of the files he guessed they weren't strictly legal. He scoured the desk for anything decent but all he found was a stick of bubblegum that was as hard as concert. Each corner of the building had its own stairwell and Johnny decided he could just get to the top floor and then make his way down each floor diagonally. At least that was he'd be relatively sure he covered most of the place.

So he went to the stairwell to the immediate left of the foyer and climbed all the way to the top floor, after which he had to sit in one of the chairs for a minute to catch his breath and let his spine relax. The top floor was the building supervisors office space, which looked like a snotty apartment to Johnny. He found a skeleton at the office desk, slumped over with a rusted gun in front of them. Didn't take a genius to put that together. In the desk however he found a bottle of Buffout, twisting open the lid to see the dozen green pills inside. He was familiar with the steroid-esque drug via his long hospital stays and put it in one of the side pockets of his backpack. Just in case. The rest of the floor was annoying bland, with a giant meeting room, a bathroom that looked as if a grenade had gone off inside and an indoor pool that was bone dry besides a giant roach scuttling around in it which he killed with a well placed headshot.

The green tinted light of his Pip-Boy certainly helped with his searching, especially when he ventured to the middle of the building where there were no windows. A few lights were still active, probably from a half dead generator centuries old, but they were rare enough he kept stumbling over things before switching on his light in annoyance. Most things Johnny found were rubbish, clipboards and old books, but he did find two more bottles of Rad-X and a pouch of Rad-Away which he took. He'd been lucky enough to avoid any radiation poisoning but he wasn't going to ignore common sense.

The first two levels were fairly boring and empty beyond a few skeletons and some of those giant roaches. He killed them with his pistol, getting more used to handling a gun that he managed to shoot them in the head nine out of ten times if he concentrated. On the third floor however he found the cafeteria, which he'd been hunting for. Rummaging around the old fridges and ovens did reveal some centuries old food, such as a carton of Blamco mac and cheese and three boxes of Fancy Lad's snack cakes. He ended up sitting in the dark at one of the cafeteria tables, munching on dried mac and cheese after swallowing a Rad-X pill, before he peeled open one of the snack cake boxes, which let out a sharp puff of air. He remembered the company that made Fancy Lad's snack cakes boast about how as long as they're sealed the cakes would never expire. Considering how they tasted exactly as he remembered them, Johnny was pretty sure they weren't exaggerating.

Johnny swallowed down the food with a bottle of Nuka-Cola, sipping on it as he wandered around the cafeteria but only found empty containers and bottles. There was no running water in the place, the tape gurgling a few times but refusing to show water when he twisted the knob. Disappointed but not surprised. At least he knew a few places that had water pumps he could go back to but still it was an annoyance.

There was also a can of dog food on one of the rear tables which he weighed in his hand with a distasteful expression before reluctantly putting in his pack. He didn't exactly want to be lowered to eating pet food, but if it were between that and starving he wouldn't have a choice. It was a final option, anyway. At least there was wild food that was edible, even if it tasted like garbage. When he was finished with the Nuka-Cola he tossed the glass bottle against a wall, the shattering overly loud in the quiet cafeteria, before going downstairs to the second floor.

"Oh look, more offices," he said sarcastically. The whole thing was just offices, with desks and bulky computers. Some of the entries were funny, but mostly bitching about one another. 

The second floor was no different than the rest, but there was quite a few floors caved in and one of the hallways was riddled with bullet marks with several skeletons lying in front. Many of the walls were as broken as the other floors, showing the inner guts of the wall cavity which were infested with wires and piping. Light struggled to pass through the filthy windows, making everything seem muted and sullen. Johnny peeked into one of the wall cavities, the hole looking as if someone had their head rammed through the drywall, but there was just dust and cobwebs. He counted himself lucky he hadn't run into any gargantuan spiders yet. 

He did find a sack full of bottle caps in one of the fire hose cases, peeking into the bag to see nearly a hundred bottle caps there. He wondered if whoever had the stash was a Sunset Sarsaparilla fan, he heard about some cap contest the company had been doing before the War occurred even if the drink never really took off in the Boston area. Either way he had no use for the caps so he just put them back in the case, walking down the hallway and making his way further to the core of the floor. He checked any bathroom he came across for chems before starting the boring task of raiding work desks.

While rattling at a locked door to a manager's office with his hoofpick an odd noise suddenly echoed through the building and he paused, cocking his head to the side intently. The light of his Pip-Boy painted his pale skin a sickly green, remaining still but the noise didn't happen again.

 _It was probably something just falling off a bench,_ he tried to assure himself. It didn't really work, but he remembered many of the windows were broken so it was possible with his rummaging and the slight breeze outside something on one of the window facing rooms had tumbled onto the floor.

Still, his hands were noticeably quicker when he directed his attention back to the lock, thankful it was such a simple one. He still had no idea how to pick locks that were actually difficult, but even for such an easy one like the door it nearly took hims thirty seconds before he got it open. Quickly putting away his hoofpick, he scoured the inside of the small manager's office, finding a small stash of old dollar notes and six empty beer bottles hiding below the desk. A check of the console showed the screen broken, but in the drawer he did find a strange inhaler with an orange tint. When he shook it, it felt full so he took it with him as well despite not knowing what it was. He could check it over later and see if it had any value or use.

Leaving the office he snooped through some lockers on the side of the room, kicking aside a set of dusty old shoes. The room was annoyingly dark and he squinted through the green light of his Pip-Boy and cursed under his breath when he realized all six lockers were secured with padlocks. He really couldn't be bothered wasting time picking through all of them, even as a nervous jitter started twitching his leg as he moved further into the room.

Something began to nag at him, a deep primal instinct that began to insist _danger._ Trying to shake off the feeling he went back to checking through the countless desk drawers. He had fairly overestimated how easy it would be to scavenge in such a large complex and despite the growing sensation of unease running up and down his spine.

The building creaked ominously and with flighty movements he ruffled through a rubbish bin, trying to shove down his unease and dismissing it as paranoia. The only animals he'd found in the building were the roaches and he was capable of handling them easy enough. Clearly the isolation was going to his head, he reasoned, while inspecting a large tube of wonderglue in the trash.

Then he heard a deep wet _huff_ of a something exhaling echoed through the building and he froze in place.

For a long moment there was silence then Johnny heard something moving towards him, the wooden floorboards creaking under its weight. It was quiet, subtle, but quickly grew as whatever-it-was approached the room Johnny was in. Very slowly he crouched down, the hairs on the nape of his neck standing on end as he tried to figure out where the noise was coming from. The noise was too loud to be any of the roaches, the rugged tides of its breathing wheezing like a dying cow. The noise of something big.

Then he saw a silhouette rising on the corridor wall, just outside the room he was in. Quickly he switched off his Pip-Boy light but the near inaudible _click_ caused the thing to let out a sharp snarling noise, the floorboards groaning as it moved forward sharply towards the noise in lumbering steps. As it did, it crossed into his line of sight and he realized what the huge creature was, the shape lumpy and malformed in the darkness his eyes struggled to accustom themselves to.

It was a bear.

The bear was huge, furless beyond a ruff around the neck and upper spine, with the rest being dark reddish skin covered in boils and weeping wounds. Johnny tensed, hunkering down like a panicked fox in a spotlight, as the giant animal snuffled at the ground with a wet muzzle. Half the skin on its face was burnt away, including the lips to create a ghoulish skull-like appearance with fangs and blackened jawbone exposed. One of its paws was bigger than his head, long claws digging deep furrows in the wooden floorboards as it lumbered forward to sniff at the door frame.

The noise it made was a raspy whining, as if it was crying in pain, while necklaces of drool sliding down from its lipless mouth to drip to the dusty floor.

Very slowly Johnny backed away, sidling behind a filing cabinet just as the thing moved into the doorway. The wonderglue was clenched in a white-knuckled grip, his hand shaking. He had a very sure idea his pistol wouldn't do shit to the huge creature.

 _Why is it in here? How did it get in here?_ His thoughts were panicked and then Johnny went numb, remembering how he'd propped open the double entry doors and the roaches he'd killed in the lobby. The bear had most likely been in passing but then been lured in by the prospect of food and an easy entry. The stairwells were large, large enough even for the huge bear to climb up and he never bothered shutting the doors behind him. 

Inwardly he cursed his stupidity, for not shutting damn doors behind himself. Now there was a gigantic mutated _bear_ in the building and in such a confined space it would be difficult to avoid, if not impossible.

He had to get out. Preferably without it spotting him; Johnny wasn't stupid enough to think he could outrun the thing, especially with his shitty back. 

The bear had now lumbered through the doorway, the harsh whining still emanating from its mouth. Carefully, silently, Johnny sat down the wonderglue before looking over his shoulder to the other exit, opposite of where the bear was, then he peeked around the corner of the filing cabinet, noting the bear was snuffling at one of the desks. A huge paw easily swatted the table in half, Johnny flinching at the noise and trying not to think about what those claws would do to his head.

Swallowing down his fear, he inched out from behind the cabinet and began creeping towards the door. The bear was loud, its deep huffing breath providing a perfect smokescreen for his movements even if he winced as floorboards creaked under his slight weight. He shifted onto nearly all fours, trying to keep himself lower than the desks as the bear knocked over a box and lipped messily at the sides, leaving bloody drool stains on the metal.

He was only a few feet from the door when he stumbled over a long abandoned flashlight, nearly tripping on the thing and roughly catching himself from faceplanting via one of the desks.

The bear swung up its immense head at the sudden noise and looked right at him.

There was a brief pause as the two stared at each other before the bear reared up onto its hind legs, over four metres tall, and roared in such a way it seemed like a scream. In the same moment Johnny bolted across the room and through the door, quickly followed by the snarling and thundering steps of the giant bear as it fell into immediate pursuit.

He ran through the other room, dodging the deserted tables and nearly tripping over upended chair. The bear burst through the doorway just as he reached the stairway, grabbing onto the rail as he hurried down to the next floor and nearly tripping as he descended to the first floor- the lower levels had been barricaded by a crapload of office chairs to which he spat out a curse as he veered through the first floor entry landing.

The bear was faster, a lot faster than he thought an animal that big could be. Even when he got through the entry door on the first floor the thing was right behind him, jaw gaping to show giant bloodied teeth as it shrieked and took a swipe at him with a massive paw. It missed and instead smashed out a giant chunk of wood the size of his head from the door frame as he half fell half stumbled into the nearest office space before leaping over a upended drink trolley. Johnny never really considered himself athletic but his entire body was locked in the overriding panicked instinct of _flight_. Even when he smacked into the corner of a desk and cut open his side he barely slowed down- if he'd fallen the bear would've had his head in its jaws in an instant and the sheer possibility of immediate death let him completely ignore the burst of pain.

His eyes instantly zeroed in one a hole in the rear of the back wall, charred around the edges as if it had been blown in by an explosive but showing the inner guts of the building. Too small for the mutated bear but big enough for him. Quickly he made a beeline for it, nearly breaking his wrists as he slammed into the wall cavity at a near sprint and quickly shimmed to the side. A second later the bear rammed its head through the hole, twisting its neck and nearly getting his arm in its gaping jaws. 

With a grunt he shuffled further to the side, breath taunt and frantic. For a long second the bear stared at him with a sunken beady eye, head half wedged into the hole before it pulled back with a cloud of dust and cracking wood.

"Fuck," he muttered, fingers shaking as he clung to the wall cavity. It was cramped and even for someone as small as he was, it wasn't comfortable but he would take that over being mauled to death. Even now he could hear the deep breathing of the bear as it started mouthing at the drywall with a shrill whine and he got the unnerving feeling it wouldn't go away in a hurry.

Swallowing back his fear he began to inch down the wall cavity, bumping into the rusted pipes infesting the tight area even as exposed wires scraped his nose. The gash in his side was starting to ooze blood but he ignored it in favour of inching further down. The guttural noises of the bear was still loud and when he looked back at the hole he could see long claws digging into the edge of the hole followed by a tearing noise as planks of wood splintered under its clawing. It was trying to gouge its way in.

A few feet down there was another small hole, bracketed by two pipes, and when he awkwardly managed to peek through it saw it led to another annoying hallway. He couldn't see any windows so he'd probably run into the middle of the building- he was lucky to find the stairwell so quickly when attacked but the wall suddenly shook, making him bite down a distressed noise, as the bear slapped a paw against the plaster. If he stayed the thing would dig him out like a hound with a fox tunnel so he forced himself onto his knees, ignoring the painful tingles in his back and began to very carefully inch through the hole.

Silence wasn't exactly his strong suit but he managed to slink out of the hole without alerting the bear and started to sneak down the hallway and peaking through the doors, looking for an exit- all he found was more abandoned office spaces, and a set of bathrooms. However he shoved down his panic, creeping further down the hallway away from the loud huffing and grumbling from the bear.

Too late he remembered he was bleeding, the gash not deep but having slicked the skin of his side crimson, but the bear crashing through the half broken door and swinging its head towards him, nostrils flaring, made him realize his mistake before he was sprinting down the hallway with the bear right after him. 

_I have to get out of here,_ his mind blared, but when he nearly reached the end of the corridor when his foot went right through the rotten floor boards and the whole thing collapsed underneath him.

He hit the ground below back first in an explosion of dust, the fall knocking the wind from him. For a moment he lay there stunned until he heard the bellow of the bear and when he bleary looked up he saw its deformed face peering down at him, its breath raspy and thick as its tongue lolled from its mouth. Then it twisted around and he heard its heavy footfalls move away before a loud banging noise rang out. 

With a stifled groan he went to roll onto his front only for his legs to refuse to cooperate, everything now numb and unresponsive from the waist down.

 _"Fuck!"_ He hissed, reaching down and grabbing a fistful of his pant leg, yanking his leg in a fruitless effort to sit upright.

Looking around wildly Johnny jumped through several possible scenarios but running was out of the question now. He had a feeling the bear wouldn't just give up, the thing seemed completely rabid and wild. He managed to drag himself forward a few feet before remembering the bleeding gash in his side; with fumbling fingers he grabbed his last stimpack, stabbing it into the skin just above the cut. Within seconds it healed over and he threw aside the now useless syringe before going back to the arduous task of dragging his useless lower half across the floor.

Within time as well, as the noise of the bear began to approach again with the sharp clacking of its claws on the wooden floor. _How the fuck did it get down here?_ He thought angrily. He rather wished he had a rocket launcher or something, as his pistol was basically useless; Johnny wasn't going to bet his life on a showdown between his dinky little gun and a giant mutated bear.

Since running was out the question he decided to hide. Like all other rooms there was an overabundance of office supplies and desks. Digging his nails into the floor he started dragging himself towards the nearest desk even as the bear hit the door opposite the room, claws puncturing through the rotten wood with disturbing ease.

Baring his teeth he seized onto the table, pulling with all his strength until he managed to drag his chest up onto it. He fell over onto the other side with a thud, just as the door got torn off its hinges. The bear took nearly seven seconds to wedge itself into the room, nearly bursting the frame as it clawed its way into the room with ragged snarls. By then he'd managed to tuck himself into the space underneath the desk, the bear's view of him obscured by the desk drawers. Pressed flat against the ground he could peer through the slither of space between the bottom of the desk and the floor, watching the bear.

It was rearing back on its hind legs, nearly reaching the ceiling as it sniffed at the broken roof Johnny had fallen through before dropping back onto all fours with enough weight it shook the floorboards. Sinking his teeth into the meat of his hand, he watched the bear lumber forward, wet nose snuffling at the small patch of blood on the ground where he'd lay. A long tongue rolled from its mouth as it lapped up the puddle.

Then he heard the bear claws scraping across the ground in an ugly noise as it started to explore the room, a whine escaping it in a pained huff. Slowly and steadily it began to get closer to where he was hiding, Johnny using his spare hand to grip his knee and tugging his leg up more firmly behind the desk.

Shrinking in on himself he could see the bear's muzzle slowly inching past the desk, could see the yellowed fangs and exposed pink gums. Bloodied drool dripped down to the floor, narrowly missing his boot as the thing shook its head.

His hand slid down to his pistol, drawing the weapon free of its holster. His pistol may end up being fairly useless against the giant animal but he'd rather die fighting- however fruitlessly -than a shrieking helpless mess. He struggled to ignore the fact the claws were the length of his entire hand and the incisors as thick as his thumb as the bear took another step, the red skin of its foreleg flexing with muscle and pus-filled boils.

Then a scuttling noise came from across the room, just as the bear was about to move forward another step and see him. The roach, which had been drawn by the noise, entered the doorway, feelers poking at the splintered wood of the door's remains and oblivious to the giant predator in the room.

The bear instantly changed from stalking to attack, moving so quickly Johnny had barely time to follow it as it turned. The giant roach was killed in an instant, snapped up in large jaws to be crushed effortlessly. The bear swallowed down the roach, a few spindly legs falling onto the floor to where they lay twitching. Once the bear was finished eating the oversized insect, it gave a cursory sniff to the ground before lumbering from the room after contented with the roach, the creaking floorboards fading from earshot as it left.

How long Johnny remained stuck behind the desk he wasn't sure, but his lower lip was bloodied from him sinking his teeth in it and the feeling had painfully returned back to his legs in stabbing pain that made him clench his jaw in an effort to be quiet. The noises of the bear were long gone but he kept himself wedged under the small cover in the dark and quiet. He only started to move when his leg muscles began to cramp horribly from being stuck in the same position.

When he did get out from under the desk it was very tentatively, peeking around the side. A part of him half expected the bear to be right there, for it to rip his face clean off, but there was nothing else in the room besides himself and dust. Cautiously he stood, grimacing at the stabbing pain in his legs as he hobbled across the room. The blood had been licked clean by the bear and the floor was scoured with long scratch marks. He shuddered, not really wanting to entertain of just how close he'd come to being torn apart and eaten. 

Crossing the room he went through the broken doorway, movements flighty like a startled animal, and through a rusty cafeteria that looked like it had been set on fire before he found himself in a conference room, hundreds of old chairs set in a semicircle before a raised stage.

He did find how the bear managed to get down to the level he'd fallen down to- part of the roof in the conference room had collapsed, making an awkward ramp from the room above from where it had fallen onto the stage and knocked over the podium. The scratches on drywall certainly showed how it had clambered down in order to track him.

 _Figures I fall through the floor,_ Johnny thought angrily, a tad hysterically. He was lucky he didn't break a leg really, but he was still pissed off. Swallowing the feeling down he crept his way through the complex, eventually finding his way back to the foyer. The roaches he'd killed there were gone, no doubt snapped up by the bear which had been drawn in by an easy meal.

As he left a office complex and stumbled out to the wasteland Johnny made a mental note to never go inside such a place again. Too big, filled with useless crap, long dead skeletons and mutated bears.

Johnny's hands were still shaking, dried blood underneath his fingernails and a matching stain on the unblemished skin of his side, as he fumbled to shut the doors to the building. The sun outside did little to ease his shivers, the aftershocks of so much panic-fueled adrenaline flooding his body as he slammed the doors shut with unnecessary force.

Then he found himself an isolated spot to sit down and have a good cry. _Why couldn't anything be easy?_

* * *


	7. Long walk

* * *

Johnny never realized how much he'd miss other people.

It was now reaching three weeks since he'd left Vault 111 and he still hadn't run into people. True, he was paranoid and flightly after his encounter with the bear which kept him clinging to any housing or towns that didn't have giant mutated monsters lurking around them. But as the days went by with him having no one to speak to he began to feel the encroaching loneliness. It was even worse when he was first admitted into hospital; there was still _people_ even if quite a few of them were assholes and Johnny hated them. But there was still people, he could still hear people walking through the halls or other patients or the nurses coming in to speak to him or even just being able to watch a television.

Now there was nothing but the sounds of nature. No cars, no voices, no ambient human noise. The only people he'd found had been long-dead bones and the odd holotape from people either before or after the War. A part of him thought that if he headed towards Boston maybe the population survived somewhat, but then he remembered the huge mushroom cloud on the horizon the day he fled to the Vault, so all signs indicated to Boston being bombed so for all he knew the humans there had been turned into monsters just like the animals.

With the animals he did get cornered by a pack of dogs, Johnny having to jump up onto the back of a rusted old tanker and sitting there while the animals ran around snarling and trying to jump up. He threw some rocks and rubbish at them while they brayed and howled. The dogs looked hideous, all gaunt bodies and taunt red skin instead of fur. They had lipless muzzles and beady eyes and Johnny wasn't even sure if they really _were_ dogs. He wasn't even fond of them but seeing how dogs looked two centuries after the War was oddly upsetting.

It was tempting to shoot them as they circled him like a bunch of piranhas but he was getting low on ammo and wasn't willing to empty everything into a pack of radiated dogs. After nearly twenty minutes of them growling and trying to scrabble up the metal husk and Johnny throwing things at them, they finally lost interest and left towards the west. He remained sitting on the top of the tanker for nearly another half of hour, keeping a close eye on the horizon with his binoculars before he slid down back on the ground and continued on his way.

He was slowly but steadily loosing weight, which he couldn't afford. Trying to keep up a diet in the post Apocalypse was difficult and it wasn't uncommon for him to go to bed hungry. Water, strangely enough, wasn't such a bit issue considering how many old farmsteads had water pumps or wells. He just had to make sure he'd swallow down some Rad-X to prevent any budding radiation poisoning. Some plants were too radiated or the Pip-Boy picked up poison within them, so he had to pass over some mutated crops he'd found.

Those squashed tomato things were still the foulest things he'd ever eaten but they wouldn't sicken him so Johnny forced himself to choke them down. The purple plum-like fruit tasted better but it was a far cry from food before the War. Next to people, food was one of the main things he missed. Roasted pork, pizza, freshly baked pies and bread, even things like McDonalds and KFC Johnny found himself deeply craving it all every time he had a mediocre breakfast. He was still lacking enough food, even if Johnny's traveling was limited to basic walking. However it wasn't uncommon for him to go to bed hungry or trying to stretch out his food sources. 

His sleep habits didn't fear much better, as he'd usually find a shack or car or old run down building to sleep. Sometimes due to the storms he'd be forced to stay for hours or even days until it clears. Occasionally he'd wake up from an unknown noise or pressing spike of paranoia. A few times he'd have snorting and scratching at one of the doors, of something large and hungry. He'd kept himself tightly squashed into the corner with his pistol held tight until it passed.

He started chewing on a tablet of Buffout each morning and throughout the day to keep up his strength, the drug aiding him in feeling awake and energized. He wasn't a stranger to drug addiction, having gone through painkiller withdrawals through his years of surgery and even going through a short bout with Med-X. While it was tempting to use the Med-X he resisted the urge, rationalizing that if he ended up getting mauled by something he'd need the painkiller more than he needed the low. Didn't stop him for occasionally looking wistfully at the needle whenever he went through his belongings, however.

The whisky was also getting steadily drunk, Johnny still sculling down a burning mouthful before sleeping. If one thing survived the nukes, it was alcohol he quickly found. As much as he desired to fall into an alcoholic fueled stupor it would make him useless if a beast ran across him. Didn't stop him from drinking bottles of wine or vodka until tipsy, he just stopped himself from being well and truly drunk. The headaches could usually be chased aside by more chewing of Buffout tablets and he eyed the slowly lowering amount of pills with unease.

As the fourth week began to roll over he found something beyond broken shacks, cabins and burnt farmsteads. It had been nearing dusk and he'd been traveling along the charred lines of a forest, seeking shelter for the coming night when he saw something tall and ridged in the distance.

It was a relay tower, old but still standing with a tattered flag flapping on the pole next to it. Johnny skirted about the area, wary of any animals lying in wait, but after a ten minute search it came up empty to which he hesitantly approached.

The place was mostly just the tower, raised on a thick slab of concern and the remains of a small fence. There was a box at the base next to a bent up ham radio. He tried switching on the radio but it buzzed with nothing for a moment before he switched it off. In the box there was some old cleaning products and he was about to pass over before looking over his clothes. After a sniff, he look one of the boxes of detergent with him before resuming his search. The only other thing at the tower was the computer to the side and he half expected it to be locked.

Instead the computer was open, reading the tower as inactive but come up with the prompt to extend the relay to pick up any nearby signals. After a moment of hesitation he clicked the prompt. Behind him the tower groaned as the disk began to ascend before coming to a grinding halt at the apex of the tower. As soon as the disk expanded, the lights at the base of the tower lit up in dull reds.

Settling down at the base he fiddled with the ham radio, the dial thick with dust, until a horrid splash of white noise made him grimace before it evened out to the signal now caught by the relay tower.

_'This is a message from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts Emergency Alert System. This morning, Saturday October 23rd, authorities detected that a nuclear attack had commenced against the United States. The following cities affected include, but are not limited to: Washington, DC; New York; Philadelphia; and Boston. If you are receiving this emergency alert message, immediately seek shelter that can provide protection from radioactive fallout. This has been an emergency action notification.'_

It was just an emergency broadcast, remnants from when the bombs first dropped. Johnny listened to it, before the message repeated again and he irritably switched it off.

It was no use to him, no use to anyone two centuries later. A late nuclear warning might as well never happen.

The land sloped up into a bumpy hill, dotted with scraggy grass and a beat up windmill missing one of its fans still doggedly rotating in the dry wind. A few birds were circling about the windmill, their harsh _caws_ echoing down to him. Johnny had no interest in checking out the solitary windmill that had no base or attachment building, much less climbing up a hill, so instead he skirted around the edge of the slope. 

By then dusk was settled heavily across the land and he began to get nervous, jittery, over being outside while night began to fall. He certainly didn't have night vision and neither did his binoculars. Switching on his Pip-Boy light made him feel even more exposed, as it would essentially be a walking beacon to anything large with teeth. Johnny was also pretty certain most predators were nocturnal and last thing he wanted was to be stalked by one of those hideous bear things again.

He was contemplating turning back to one of the shacks a few miles back when he caught the glint of metal at the base of the hill, into a sunken hollow. Quickly he walked towards it, where the ground dipped down to a large maw opening in the side of the hill itself.

It was a old door, clearly blended among the dark rock and earth at the throat of the opening. It it weren't for the green light of his Pip-Boy shining off the crisscrossing wires wrapped around the old grey wood. The door was large, large enough for a vehicle to pass through, and took Johnny nearly a minute to pry it open with a groan of rusty hinges and dust. When he stepped inside he made sure to shut the door behind him. 

Inside it was dark, even with the illumination, but was carved in such a way it was man made. There was concrete beneath his feet but after the centuries it had slowly been taken over by sludge and mulch. As he slowly descended deeper into the earth the ground began to be littered with mushrooms, a poisonous green that lit up the area close to it like radioactive bulbs. At first they were no bigger than his thumb but as he crept further down the cavern they grew until some of the domed heads were as big as his fist. He also passed by piles of junk, such as empty cans and broken old storage boxes but otherwise it was quiet and cold; the chill inside the cave seeped into his skin and making goosebumps rippled along his forearms.

Despite his unease, there was no actual _danger_ instinct pressing at him. Instead it was a creeping feel of claustrophobia, of the darkness of the rock surrounding him and the weird other worldliness of the mushrooms. A part of him wanted to run back to the outside, to get away from the dark confines of the tunnel. However he shook it off, angrily shoving away his feelings of unease and continued down the tunnel and within a minute of walking it curved until it opened up.

At the end of the cavern it flattened into a large domed room with several large rusted shipping containers and a burnt husk of a truck which blocked the view of the end wall. The green mushrooms were sprouting from the mushy earth, some even determinedly growing from the containers in small glowing clusters. Checking the containers showed nothing of value, just more rusted junk and cracked computers. One was also filled with broken medical equipment, broken vials and test tubes that littered the ground with shards of glass that shimmered like crystal as he poked around, boots crunching on the glass. There was even a Auto Doc at the back of the container, but was nearly snapped in half.

Climbing out of the container he walked further into the cavern, having to skirt around the other containers which blocked the rest of the room and then clambered over the burnt husk of the trunk. He landed heavily on the awkward ground, grunting at the jarring of his back. When he straighten up he saw the end of the cave and the dirty old console fixed to the stone.

However what really caught his attention was the end wall which was made up of a gigantic gear that towered up to the cave's ceiling, made from a dull metal and scratched with a faded yellow _24_ painted in the middle.

It was another Vault.

* * *


	8. Spelunking

* * *

The strange Vault door looming at the end of the deep cavern as if it had been carved into the stone itself. Even so far away Johnny's Pip-Boy light shone on the rough golden numbers etched in the middle of the door.

_24._

"Another Vault...?" Even whispering his voice seemed overly loud in the quiet, dark tunnel and Johnny clamped his mouth shut, suddenly paranoid some monster in the shadows would hear him. Instead his voice echoed slightly before fading into silence.

Tentatively he approached, a twisted hope coiling in his gut as he walked towards the gigantic door; _Maybe there is people in there._

Everyone in his Vault had died barring himself but it wasn't far fetched to assume other Vault's had been more successful. It seemed Vault 111 had collapsed from internal strife and food shortage even with its experiment but with this new Vault, for all he knew it was behaving exactly as if should be. He had no idea how many Vaults were experimental and perhaps some had less useless overseers. Perhaps Vault 111 was an outlier for all he knew. Johnny wasn't exactly an expert on Vault-Tec.

Opening the door was surprisingly easy enough to do, with connecting his Pip-Boy to the entry panel and accessing the entry option and unsealing the Vault. The massive screech of rolling metal as the colossal gear was dragged backwards caused Johnny to grimace, watching the door being pulled back before being rolled to the side with a swirling cloud of dirt and groaning metal.

For a long moment Johnny stared into the interior of the Vault, expecting there to be security or someone waiting inside. Instead there was nothing, only stray equipment and floating grime that the overhead lights struggled to pass through with eye-watering brightness.

"Hello?" His voice echoed through the emptiness and slowly Johnny walked inside the Vault, leaving foot prints in the layer dust covering the floor.

Above the walkway was a massive sign reading _'Vault 24, welcome home!'_ but Johnny just felt uneasy at how dead the Vault seemed. It was like all the other places in the Waste. Just empty.

Oddly enough the entrance of the Vault didn't lead to a corridor towards the main hub like it'd done in 111; instead the door across from the Vault entry was a storage room, filled with crates of books, pitchers and other science equipment centuries old which he browsed through before ignoring. He did find a Stealth Boy tucked behind the rear crate, which he tucked into his backpack in case he needed it later despite not really know how to use one. The rest of the main entry was empty of people or even any sign of life such as one of the giant roaches.

When he checked the side control panel he found a skeleton, clad in a 24 Vault suit and crushed between a secret door and the frame. The heavy metal had bent the rib cage but from the claw marks on the floor directly in front proved whoever the victim was hadn't died instantly. Swallowing back his disgust he carefully braced his legs around the skeleton and heaving on the door until it shuddered and rolled back up.

Following it up Johnny thought he'd find another storage space but instead he ended up inside the Overseer's office, the entry's one corridor leading to a secret underground passage beneath the desk, which creaked and groaned when he pressed the open switch. Inside the office there was still no one, but the hum of the lights and countless lines of power built into the wall.

 _Did everyone leave?_ It didn't make sense, especially when he checked the Overseer's personal quarters which had clean running water- even heated water. It seemed odd an entire Vault of people would simply abandon fresh water, especially since so much above was radiated or poisoned. He was sorely tempted to have a hot shower or even abath but ignored it in favour of scouring through the Overseer's quarters for anything of worth. There were numerous 24 Vault suits folded up in the wardrobes, several Nuka-Colas and a cupboard full of teddy bears. He took the colas though, sitting on the bed and sipping at one while straining his ears. In a Vault he expected to hear the low drone of voices or _something_ but there was just the persistent sullen silence.

He did take note of the various posters stamped up around the Overseer's quarters on the cold concrete walls, apparently detailing of a lottery the entire Vault went through and urging population growth.

 

 

Johnny drowned down the rest of the cola before throwing the empty bottle at the nearby wall, the glass shattering with a crystalline cry as it just missed one of the posters. He dropped his hand to his holster out of habit but despite the loud crash no one came. For all his knew that 'lottery' had gone through the entire Vault even if it made no sense, since why would they abandon clean hot water and power for the horrid wasteland outside? Johnny didn't know. For all he knew the rest of the Vault turned on one another and the rest was covered in dead bodies.

Another search of the office didn't reveal any information about accessing the console and it wasn't until he decided to search the skeletal remains back down by the escape tunnel. In the back pocket was a hastily scrawled note with a single word and when Johnny returned to the office and punched it into the Overseer's computer which then allowed him access and he quickly searched through the notes to see if there was anything indicating what had happened to Vault 24.

  
Attachment A   
  
Congratulations!   
Vault 24 has been chosen as one of the very few select Vaults to receive a genuine G.E.C.K. The device was delivered before final sealing of the Vault and installed into its secure pedestal by our special G.E.C.K. Scramble Team. I'd like to extend my best wishes to you and all of your population. Your survival will ensure the continuation of the human race, and to carry the Vault-Tec name into the future.   
Doctor Stanislaus Braun   
Director, Societal Preservation Program   
Vault-Tec Corporation 

_What the hell is a G.E.C.K.?_ Johnny though irritably, scanning the words again before clicking through the rest of the computer's contents which was typical Vault-Tec endorsement, some senseless rambling about the G.E.CK. thing he had no interest in, the Overseer issuing boring requests to maintenance above a water leak before he came across one labeled 'Lottery'.

  
A Message From The Overseer   
  
Greetings residents,   
Reminder the monthly lottery is coming up and we remind you all to retrieve your tickets at some point during the weekend before the draw on Sunday night at 6.00pm.   
Mary and Shelly will be issue tickets in the main Vault meeting room and snacks will be provided.   
Remember that if you have children under the age of ten you may claim extra tickets per each child for _both_ parents.   
Pregnant mothers may also claim extra tickets if confirmed by Dr. Mallory.   
Mothers who have given birth between the last lottery and the latest can also grab additional tickets depending on how many infants are delivered.   
Vault members over the age of sixty five can also claim an additional ten tickets.   
If the mother's are still in the medical bay, then their spouse/partner may collect the tickets for them provided relationship is verified.   
Also a reminder that while the lottery is a joyous occasion for a special someone (or family) to be selected for being moved to our growing surface farming community, we must stress there is no need for pushy or demanding behaviour. We're all family down here and need to treat each other as such.   
So remember to get your tickets and hopefully you'll join the family above ground.   
Good luck! 

* * *

Exiting out of the files , Johnny stared at the green screen with a frown on his face. A farming community. He hadn't seen any evidence of such a community while walking through the area but for all he knew the way to access it was deep within the bowels of the Vault with another tunnel system. It could also explain the odd precautions for the main entry, that the entrance ended to a single storage room with the only way to reach the Vault itself being a secret corridor. If it weren't for the unfortunate person crushed underneath the doorway he most likely never would've found the true entrance.

He left the Overseer's office and began to explore. Searching the rest of the Vault revealed no one however the entire place was still immaculate, with neat walls, clean floors and humming power. He found three Mister Handy units which explained the upkeep especially with the absolute absence of any living human being. Made sense, in a way, but it was still creepy walking down the bright hallways with everything quiet and empty. Even the robots did nothing to stave away the atmosphere and it got to the point Johnny was wishing for something to attack him, even if it was one of those giant roaches or mole rats.

Even when he reached the personal quarters there was no one; every bed was neat and made. Personal affects were left behind. It was if the people just went out for a stroll and never returned. The soft jazz music playing continuously over the sound system didn't help. If anything it made him feel even more uneasy but despite slowly scouring his way through the Vault he found no evidence of recent living.

He did end up snooping through one of the personal computers of a resident while lurking through the many bedroom suites throughout the Vault, wherein she gushed happily about the lottery.

  
Journal entry 89   
  
So the lottery was called yesterday and my sister won!   
I confess I was disappointed it wasn't me. I thought for sure I would be chosen this time but it seems my sister's double tickets from her newborn twins paid off.   
True, her husband and kids can't go but everyone in the Vault is just like one big family so they'll be looked after.   
I bet when she's up there on the surface, helping the new settlers with the G.E.C.K. she'll have a nice little house and farm ready for them!   
But I've been thinking about maybe hurrying things along with Bryan, even though we aren't married...if we have a child, we'll get another draw in the lottery and I think the Vault is the best place to raise a child- everyone is so close and those that get chosen will be there waiting for us to join them.   
Oh shoot, it's nearly time for her farewell party, I better go! 

  
Journal entry 111   
  
After only a few months Bryan and I are expecting!   
Doctor Mallory just told me the wonderful news this morning, I'm so excited!   
I've been put on a strict diet and vitamins, along with an increased amount of salient green and meat with each meal.   
And an extra ticket!!   
And then if I carry to term I'll get NINE extra tickets!!!  
Fingers crossed that I win! 

  
Journal entry 287   
  
WE WON!   
I'm so excited!   
I can barely believe it, all three of us winning!   
It was an anniversary draw so me, Bryan and little Lilly were all called- that's the rule, if you win on anniversary your spouse and children get picked as well.   
Oh, I'm so happy. I haven't seen my sister in nearly five years and my parents since I was a little girl.   
Now however we're going to go see them on the surface above, to where they've been making our future.   
I can't wait! I've never seen the sky or the sun but I bet its beautiful.

 _So that G.E.C.K thing has something to do with it?_ He never heard of it, but it could be secret Vault-Tec technology that only the Overseer's could use properly. While the radiation outside Vault 24 wasn't present, he wasn't sure how long the Vault had even functioned for. Perhaps they introduced the dwellers to a specific site that had been extensively tested. But her last sentence about never seeing the sky showed the woman had been born in the Vault, so at the very least she'd been born twenty years after the War or perhaps even further down the line. Johnny was unsure as two centuries had passed and the entries weren't dated.

Johnny felt like that was a fairly optimistic view for the creepily empty Vault but he felt jittery, nervous, and starved of social contact so he was willing to indulge such stupid fantasies. Of some miracle settlement that was actually green and had normal food. Not ugly brown crap and messed up plant life and animals.

Leaving the living quarters he ventured further into the guts of the Vault, taking the stairs to different floors. He found a full sized swimming pool on the lower levels that was still filled with clear fresh water, and there was also an exercise block with rows of fitness machines and communal showers. The lowest floor was the entire power station which fueled the Vault along with maintenance and construction areas. When he got to where the water filtering was he noticed the floor was wet, though the water was only around five centimeters deep and when he checked it with his Pip-Boy it was purified so no issue with radiation. Checking through the room just revealed more junk, including an entire cupboard of glue bottles which nearly swamped him when he opened it.

There was also another computer at the far end of the room and wasn't password protected so he clicked inside to be nosy, looking over the two short entries.

  
Sealing completed   
  
Per Vault-Tec requests, the main entry hallway has been sealed completely with concrete after Vault 24 was filled with 97% of pre-approved population. Remaining 3% having no entered Vault within required opened period and are now considered 'lost'.   
After sealing of Vault entry, main hallway has been sealed so if any escape attempts are done at later attempts they will be unable to leave the way they entered. As such, only the secondary observation group will be aware of the only exit being through the main lobby's Overseer office evacuation tunnel while main population will be told the only means of leaving will be through the lottery winner elevator system.   
Sealed entry way will need to be monitored for approximately one month to make sure concrete hardens sufficiently. 

Correspondent from Chief Physician to Maintenance crew   
  
Fix that fucking water system   
How stupid are you lot that you can't even handle a goddamn leak???   
I'm surrounded by morons! 

The 'Chief Physician' sounded like an ass to Johnny, especially considering the leak barely came over the soles of his boots. The entry about the sealing of the main exit to the Vault was strange, though it made sense in a way. If the inhabitants panicked or went mad from claustrophobia there would be no way to escape but from what he'd seen, there was no bodies in Vault 24 beyond the single one trapped in the exit of the escape tunnel. However the 'lottery winner elevator system' seemed to be the only way residents left, for whatever purpose if the settlement was actually real or not, and he wanted to know what had happened in the pristine Vault. Such a line of thinking led him back to the upper levels, where one of the cafeteria was located along with a Mister Handy hovering behind one of the benches. He'd ignored the others but figured talking to one of the hovering tin cans 

"Good afternoon, residence!" The Mister Handy greeted Johnny in its jovial British voice as soon as he seated himself opposite it, "Would you care for some lunch?"

"What do you have?"

"Ah, we have the delicious and nutritious salient green! There is also Nuka-Cola for that nagging thirst and our very own meat supplement!" The Mister Handy said brightly, eye stalk stretching out even as it placed a strange tub of something green on the bench, along with a Nuka-Cola and some type of meat that looked like steak.

"Where is everyone?"

"As of this moment, all residents of Vault twenty four have won the lottery. Good show I say! Though I see you haven't yet received your monthly ticket, here you are," the Mister Handy reached over with a pincer hand, giving Johnny a small blue and yellow ticket the same size and shape as one would get in a gaming arcade.

Johnny took it, rotating the ticket back and forth between his thumb and forefinger; it was made of dense paper, emblazoned with '24' on the front and a tiny serial number underneath. The Mister Handy stared at him before stretching its eye stalk out even further as it scanned the ticket he was holding.

"Scanning ticket...Oh, lucky day! You have this months this months this months this months this months winning ticket!" The Mister Handy's voice glitched violently, before a spray of confetti burst out of its side vents and making Johnny flinch back at the sudden noise even as the robot continued to ramble, "Congratulations resident error file not found! You've won an exclusive relocation effort to our topside farming facility! Remember, there is no need to pack your personals, everything will be provided by the Overseer and previous winners when you join them in the sun-lit town above."

He tried to speak to the Mister Handy but it just regulated back to repeating how he won the lottery and congratulating him over and over. Getting annoyed, he took the Nuka-Cola and the tub of green stuff; a check on his Pip-Boy showed it was essentially broken down plant and had no radiation whatsoever. A rarity in the crappy wastelands. He wasn't in the mood for meat, however, after that horrid incident with the demented bear so he left the steak behind before leaving to try and find the elevator for the lottery winners.

It turned out to be in the middle of the main meeting hall, with hundreds of chairs grouped around it and a podium on one side that was stacked high with magazines and Vault newsletters strewn around it. The mess was odd considering the rest of the immaculate Vault but Johnny ignored it to approach the elevator, putting the ticket in the small slot next to the door. With a cheery _beep!_ the door rolled open, a bright panel reading 'Congratulations winner!' on the far wall.

Hesitating at the doors, Johnny cast a glance over his shoulder towards the exit of the hall. There was no telling of what he'd find in the winners elevator, for all he knew it would take him to the upper level and just kill him. However he didn't feel it was going to be like that, there seemed to be a purpose behind the lottery and the Vault itself along with the secondary system and staff.

He was tired; tired of being afraid, alone, useless, exhausted and paranoid. He was tired of the shitty radiated world outside. He was just tired of the outside and resigned to being the last person beside the monsters and thus entered the elevator. When he pressed the button- there was only one, the arrow facing upwards -the doors slid shut and the elevator shuddered to life. As it ascended, the most cliche music began to play. It reminded him of the lousy tunes whenever he visited cites or stayed in luxury hotels before life went to hell.

Wasn't quite sure if there would be nice accommodation upstairs but he was morbidly interested in finding out where everyone had disappeared to.

* * *


	9. Lottery winners

* * *

_"Congratulations! Your fantastic journey is only just beginning!"_

The elevator opened up to a circular room but Johnny wasn't fooled by the cleanliness; there was four vents on the walls which he was relatively sure weren't _just_ for ventilation. Some type of gas, maybe?

 _"Please step forward, lottery winner."_ A electronic voice urged him. Johnny shrugged and obeyed, not missing the cameras embedded in the ceiling either. Then again Vaults were all about observation; he really should've read the pamphlet better. 

Walking across the room he found the double door was partially jammed; the left was shut to the middle but the right was at a wonky angle, shifting back and forth with continuous grinding noises. There was enough space for him to duck through the malfunctioning door, and it led out to a balcony overlooking four lower levels. On each level there were twelve small rooms, with a heavily reinforced door and wide window looking inside and attached computer system.

Johnny peered over the railing down at the lower levels, straining his eyes and ears for any indication of anyone else in the area. Instead like the main Vault, there was only the hum of power as a background noise. The current level was even devoid of the soft jazz music like the main one which at least made it mildly less creepy. 

"Hello?" His voice echoed down the empty levels, chiming back to him and making him grimace. _Where is everyone?_

He walked around the upper level before finding a security station right next to the broken door. Snooping around inside revealed no one, a wardrobe of Vault security outfits and a dusty computer which he logged into and which only housed two entries.

  
Security accessing armoury  
  
Reminder staff can only access the armoury through the Overseer's office so make sure you send a message to them first for approval.  
Heavy ordinance also needs to be tagged out through the console and pre-approved. If an emergency occurs then weaponry is permitted to be immediately taken.  
Explosives must be used only as a last recourse and personal are reminded they will be held accountable for their actions once the situation is dealt with so please take care with heavy weaponry.  
  


  
A Message From The Overseer   
  
It has come to my attention you have begun discussing the moral ramifications of the purpose of Vault 24.   
As per Vault-Tec requirements, all staff were to sign a contract that outlined the specifications and qualification of all individuals involved.   
Due to the nuclear holocaust above there will be no immediate ending of the Vault nor its required experimentation period.   
For any emotional instability please refer to our Chief Physician to be prescribed medicine and mental analysis.   
Any continued insubordination will result in containment and evaluation of your work ethic and loyalty to Vault-Tec's goals.   
Failure to adhere to this will result in immediate termination of your contract using lethal force. Have a good day.   


"Harsh," Johnny grumbled as he got back up. However the message about the armoury interested him deeply; he needed better weapons than his dinky pistol which was difficult enough against those giant roaches and mole rats, not to mention that mutated bear that nearly killed him. A better gun would be a comfort and perhaps make everything feel less like a horrid, senseless struggle.

Walking out of the room was eerie for some reason, Johnny half expecting something to leap out around the corner and attack. He kept his hand resting on the butt of his pistol, ready to shoot if anything showed up by after checking four more rooms he found only shriveled up corpses of the previous inhabitants. Despite the dwellers themself being gone, the Vault was still very much alive with the persistent hum of electricity and rumble of machinery so clearly it wasn't a mechanical fault that left everything empty.

Of course he got a fairly good indication of what the Vault's purpose actually was when he reached one of the cells and looked through the dusty window.

Inside was some hideous deformed _thing_ lying dead in the cell, humanoid but covered in partially grown scales and twisted horns growing out of the temple. The stomach had ruptured, twisted organs covering the steel grating below the thing. Cloudy dead eyes stared out the window and there were claw marks on the walls, gouged into the thick metal in long ugly lines.

_What the hell? That thing is wearing one of the Vault 24 jumpsuits...Did this use to be one of the Vault dwellers? What did they do here?_

Checking the console next to the cell revealed nothing, due to the information being corrupted. He briefly thought about opening the door but the thing inside make him deeply uneasy and revolted. It was dead, but just what had happened disturbed him.

However it turned out all the other cells on the upper level had the same types of mutated creatures inside, all dead and in various states of mutation. The sealed state of the cells meant they weren't rotten, having no outside bacteria or pathogens introduced to make them decay or mold. They had some consistency with the mutations; scales, ramlike horns, some even had tails or deformed legs, but all where dead with ruptured organs or muscles and skin falling from the bones. Many had expressions of agony of their deformed faces, showing they didn't die painlessly. Some were more recognizable as human beings, with one dead woman having an entirely human face but animalistic body and elongated spinal cord making up the crocodile tail. A few of the consoles worked, but simply stated 'subject failure' or gibberish on them.

The next two levels contained more experiments, trapped inside the cells and dead. At one point he mustered up the courage to enter one of the cells, where the experiment was tiny and tucked up into one of the far corners. It was dead but he still kept on giving it nervous looks while searching the cell for any helpful information. To his surprise there was a working console inside and on it a variety of games and surprisingly massive amount of information about the world before the War. There was also, strangely enough, a remote access cabinet filled with numerous art supplies from paint and ink to clay and origami paper, along with work books inside the room and in one of the books lying on the floor he found crayon-drawn stick figures which confused him.

Then he realized the reason why the experiment was so small was because it had been a child, barely more than an toddler.

_What the fuck happened here?_

* * *

  
This whole place is a mess. I just thought it was the typical 'super soldier' shit the government was all over during the whole war with China with the rumours of experiments and kids being kidnapped and whatever, but this is another level entirely. Bad enough the main Vault is basically just breeding stock but the experiments are ridiculous. While doing my routine patrols down in the laboratory sub levels I came across that quack Dr. Ferdinand and he was harping on about trying another strain of some type of evolutionary virus- but when I lingered around the doorway he started going on how he was 'cross breeding' it or something with DNA the Vault'd been sent from the Deathclaw program before the bombs fell. I won't lie, I always thought that Deathclaw program was just crazy rumours. I mean, weaponizing Jackson Chameleons? What the hell? Not to mention adding that to the whole 'Evolutionary Experimentation Program' or whatever he had been talking about with the Overseer. Another batshit plan by Vault-Tec I bet.   


Below it was another single entry, marked 'Results'.

List after list after list of names and ages of hundreds of people and detailing their death;. Internal hemorrhaging, organ failure, brain aneurysm, heart attack, collapsing lung, seizure, rupturing organs, and even 'Unknown'. Only a tiny few were assigned 'Old age' as their cause of death.

Another look showed him the number was even over a hundred, going into the thousands. The experiment that had happened in the Vault had slowly gone through the original populace and onto their children, taking some away each month to be used as test subjects while they were under the assumption they were going somewhere new on the surface, a place being rebuilt after the war. Instead they were being used in horrific experiments and Johnny was unsure if he really wanted to understand what had been happening in Vault 24 for two centuries, especially if the experiments were still inside.

Still...there was a chance, slim but there, that some had survived especially with a Vault that big. He also wanted to know, a morbid curiosity to learn _more_ about a fellow Vault and the fate that befell it. As it was, being frozen seemed far more merciful than whatever they were doing in this one, turning them into twisted animal experiments as a way to try and create living weapons for a long-finished War.

After a moment of silence he stood and upended the table, making the computer screen crack and sending trays and cups crashing onto the ground. He stood still, listening intently but again there was nothing, not even a grunt or shift of air. It was eerie, as if the entire Vault had just upped and vanished. While the main populace had harvested for experimentation it didn't answer where the other staff were. Or perhaps they died off over the years from age and limited reproduction.

Or maybe the staff left after the main population died off and the unfortunate remains by the evacuation tunnel was just a straggler. Maybe he was just wandering around an abandoned Vault and was wasting his time.

Whatever. Either way, he could at least loot the armoury before he left and make do with the hot showers. Just because he was walking around the wastes doesn't mean he enjoyed wallowing in dirt and radiation. These was also the morbid curiosity of finding out what had happened in the Vault. With his own he'd lived through but this was one menacing on an entirely differently level. 

The whole thing was ridiculous and just reminded him of how mad everyone got leading up to the nuclear war. Johnny got quite a lot of leeway due to his fame and family, regardless if that last one had all but disowned him but the rampant paranoia and unethical actions of the American government had reached peak levels. Them permitting all the horrid tests on the Vaults wasn't far fetched and there were already many accusations of human rights violations towards America. Canada especially got vexed after being annexed and numerous prison camps for Chinese-Americans grew. Johnny personally barely paid any attention to it- he had his own problems -but he never really had a high opinion of the United States. Them bombing everyone to hell just verified that and it wasn't beyond him to believe the Overseer and science division were acting on the governments orders.

Fed up he left the room and checked some of the cells before taking the stairs down to the lowest level. The lowest level was the generator, maintenance and water care systems which took up the entire floor. There was also a room Johnny didn't recognize, with conveyor belts and a huge meat grinder in the middle. A trolley tray stacked with preserved meat was in one of the corners and numerous graphs and science mumbo jumbo on the wall. There was also a note book covered in ramblings about how to make the meat taste differently, like trying to make it taste like chicken or fish to help introduce some variety with flavours and differing textures.

He did check the console, seeing its main status was 'Meat Jam' and recommending maintenance fix the issue before reactivating the facility. There was also an error message about the generator power but what really got his attention was a message about some test.

  
**Recycled meat test complete**   
  
After a year of feeding a selected portion of the main Vault population the overseer has given the approval to move it to Vault wide. There have been no recorded negative effects of the meat upon humans.   
The doc and science staff have repeatedly claimed the recycled bodily leftovers from failed experiments were treated enough there was no danger of Kuru disease in the population.   
The stored non-recycled meat is being slowly relocated to the research division of the Vault for staff consumption while the general populace will be permanently moved to recycled meat as their meat supplement.   
The introduction of a solid meat option in their diet will aid in healthy bodily growth. Science staff are also entertaining ways of making the recycled meat to taste different with additional chemicals and mineral supplements to further booster physical and neurological strength in general populace.   


* * *

It took Johnny a few seconds to fully understand what he'd just read and when he did he swallowed back a swell of bile in his throat; those lunatic scientists had been _feeding_ the Vault dwellers their own people they'd experimented on.

He was suddenly, viscerally gratefully he hadn't eaten the meat offered by the Mister Handy unit. He wasn't sure just what the other dwellers had been turned into but still, eating another human being was a line he wasn't quite willing to cross yet. He'd rather eat those horrid giant rat things before crossing that line. It did make him wonder what the hell was wrong with the staff. He didn't like people but killing them and then feeding them back to their friends and family was going over the line for him.

At least that pulpy plant substance wasn't made from humans, even if it looked like a smoothie made from mown grass. 

Leaving the small meat facility he wandered through the power station and noticed one of the stations was a charred mess. Checking it with his Pip-Boy didn't show any radiation but he found a skeleton slumped against the workbench in the Vault 24 jumpsuit which was charred and torn. Probably from the explosion in the power station but the scorch marks indicated it had happened quite a while ago and the remaining station was still enough to provide basic power for the lights and water system in the secondary facility.

Nudging aside the bones with a crowbar he rummaged through the work station, taking a roll of duct tape with him just in case. He didn't know much about repairs unfortunately but at least his pistol was in relatively good working condition and he had enough bullets for a while. He wouldn't mind a rocket launcher or something though, just for security purposes. Especially if that bear thing ever made a reappearance- he wouldn't mind some explosives.

He also found a small badly made metal horse thing in one of the drawers. It was cute, he could admit that even if he wasn't sure if it actually _was_ a horse. Maybe it was a giraffe or something, he wasn't sure. He put it on the work bench, a few feet from the remains, figuring maybe that person was the creator. Or maybe it had intended to be a gift. That just made him think of the undersized child-creature in one of the cells and he left the room in disgust.

However it had been one of the first signs of the Vault staff so he started checking the rest of the staff quarters. Most were empty of inhabitants but he noticed many were far more lived in, with messily made beds or personal affects. Made sense in a way, due to the lack of Mister Handy units in this area unlike the main facility so everything was more messy, dark and filthy. There was even more instances of half eaten food on people's desks or empty Nuka-Cola bottles.

Finding the medical room was a bonus and Johnny immediately raided the cabinets, finding two stimpacks, a bottle of Rad-X and three pouches of Rad-Away. There was also some other drugs which he wasn't sure were so he ignored the long needles after a moment of watching. He certainly wasn't adverse to being high and spent quite a few nights off his head back in his heyday but considering the Vault and the experiments he wasn't about to touch any unknown substance in the place with a ten foot pole.

There was the remains of a woman, lying in the bed at the back of the room and still clad in her Vault 24 suit and shrived hands clasped across her chest in the personal quarters attached to the medical room. Johnny lingered in the doorway before batting off the lamp on the table, making it shatter. She remained dead.

He relaxed then, after having thought for some mad reason maybe she was a zombie. Childish fear but whatever. Her computer had a copy of _The Red Menace_ on it and he spent a few minutes playing on the game before checking out her personal files. Oddly enough there was only one left and it seemed to be focused on the means of the deformed state of the remains he'd already found.

  
**The virus**   
  
The strain of the Forced Evolutionary Virus (Or FEV) granted to Vault 24 certainly is not the only strain created and distributed but a basic variant. The paranoia of China using biological weapons during the war certainly motivated America- after all, one of the best places to achieve great strides in science is during war. At least they forgo any petty morals that get in the way. Initially, they were thought to be viral strains that would simply kill the one sick as a synthesized plague which urged the creation of the Pan-Immunity Virion Project. However this project was intended as a way to immunize one against hostile foreign viral weaponry by mutating the dual helical structure and transforming it into a quadruple helical structure to create immunity towards any known or yet unknown pathogen. This was done after intensive single cell experiments and then the introduction towards plants and finally human subjects after extensive animal testing and mutation which revealed the true nature of the PVP. Of course, meddling within the genetics of humans always yield surprising results which is what happened with PVP and thus it became the FEV after promising animal tests which showed heightened intelligence, durability and strength. Prisoners of war also aided in this and the likes of Little Yangzte added this information. A pity communications have gone down, it would have been greatly beneficial to be able to compare experiments and differing means of work ethics and standards with one another along with offering final chances for American prisoners if they agreed to be test subjects. As it is, blending the basic strains for FEV and the Deathclaw Genetic Code (DGC) as a means of infecting human subjects due to the lack of animals within Vault 24.   
However with the contained nature of Vault 24 the strain of humanity used will be pure with no worry of radiation affect the genetic make up of the inhabitants. Potentially down the line there could be tests implemented on exposing subjects to radiation even though I'm quite sure other Vaults would have been dealing with such experiments. However of course that depends on whether this experiment will be a success. Despite Dr. Ferdinand's and the overseer's optimism I am unsure. The mixing of both FEV and DGC could be catastrophically unstable despite how secure the experimentation cells are and with the main population being oblivious to the scientific area of the Vault. However the overseer has assured me she will be keeping a close eye on the scientists to make sure their enthusiasm doesn't overwhelm their common sense- she, at least, understands how dangerous the purpose of this Vault will become. The cells should be durable enough considering through their initial construction testing was through the use of mini nukes. They also have a feeding and watering station so while a subject is inside there will be no cause for entering the cell. There is also the ability to exterminate the current subject housed inside through the use of the attached console and two types of gas- one lethal and one knock out. That way the failures can be euthanized without personal intervention and another so they can be comatose for tissue samples.   
Of course all cells are under constantly surveillance and all have an intercom, provided the inhabitant will retain intelligence enough to communicate. I'm not quite convinced yet Dr. Ferdinand is very enthused about the prospect and the testing ahead of us and the potential ahead for humanity. I admit, his excitement is contagious.  


_Ferdinand?_ It wasn't a name he was familiar with but then again Johnny had been too wrapped up in himself before the War began, much less being interested in science. For all he knew Vault-Tec just grabbed anyone with potential and no morals for their Vaults. Johnny hardly liked people but what they had been doing to everyone down here was disgusting to him. The woman's notes just made it all the more apparent the main population were just guinea pigs and fooled into looking forward to their own deaths via Vault propaganda. She didn't seem overly concerned.

He also had no idea what a 'Deathclaw' was, but it didn't exactly sound good and wasn't sure if he'd be able to escape from one if it really was inside the Vault somewhere. However Johnny had hardly been silent, first by stumbling around in the main Vault area but then gaining access to the secret science division area so he became to think that everyone was dead. The skeletal remains of the woman made him think some chose to stay but died from old age or perhaps disease. He rather nastily hoped they would have killed each other like the Vault-Tec staff did in his own Vault but it seems the majority did as they were commanded. 

Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to stop snooping around the Vault records, especially when he found the Chief Physician's office. It was one of the rooms down the one corridor of the secondary structure, with the Overseer's office at the end. Inside the Physician's office there was a perfectly preserved banquet of red roses in a glass container on the bench and a variety of white coats in the wardrobe. The bedroom was absolutely covered in hundreds of notes and pages scribbled with countless science formulas that Johnny couldn't make heads or tails of.

The computer was password protected on the desk but Johnny found a small card tucked between it and the wall which had the words _'Rosoideae'_ written on it in neat cursive which turned out to be the pass code for the computer. The contents were clinical experiment entries, Johnny frowning as he flicked through the countless files written up by the Chief Physician of Vault 24 to try and figure out what happened.

  
Entry 3-23   
  
A month in post-nuclear war, and the Vault is performing smoothly. A pity we don't have anymore open correspondents from the Big MT, after the bombs fell all communication went to pot. Speaking to other science heads via Vault-Tec head office was a boon and getting all those other bits and bobs really helped me figure out what I want out of this Vault especially with that little beta FEV strain I was allowed to take. Certainly helped with feeding these idiots in this Vault. As it, the recycling meat system and some of the data the Overseer for Vault 22 collaborated enough we have a GS-2000 biological research station to make salient green from will provide the staple diet of the main Vault population. We can add fruit and whatnot as special 'rewards', maybe offer them with extra lottery tickets to encourage breeding and giving desserts and Nuka-Colas as other rewards. Maybe have family meals? Have to keep the population stable, after all.   


  
Entry 3-24   
  
A bit of a hiccup with the lottery system but nothing major. Honestly I sometimes question the competence of the staff here but the overseer assured me she'd deal with the problem. How hard is it to issue tickets? Considering how rigged it is a child should be capable of performing the act without incident. Have the Vault dwellers line up, check. Take note of where the pre-selected person is in line, check. When they are at front of the line simply print out the winning ticket for them specifically, check.   
Not hard!!!   


  
Entry 2-25   
  
Some more scans of the surface make me think it won't be inhabitable until near a decade- the Vault wasn't close to the blast, certainly, but the damage by nuclear power is fascinating. Hm. Perhaps there is potential in also exploring mutations brought on by radiation? When I crack this generic growth perhaps I can focus my attention there.   


  
Entry 55-18882   
  
As usual when the subjects reach adolescence they become wild, feral. At least we can just gas them in their cells. Subject-C3753 went completely mad when the gas was added, trying to claw the door down in a fit and screaming. This is the first time a subject has actually reacted in panic to the gas, so maybe it's good news? A response to an unknown threat. Could be jotted down as an animal reaction but none of the other subjects have reacted as such. She immediately noticed the noise and panicked. I will certainly be doing an in-depth autopsy on this one, maybe splice in her genome and see if it helps in future subjects.  
  
Entry 55-19202   
  
I've noticed an increasing mutation in subjects being introduced with the new strain, namely their vertebrae deforming and growing long spiny ridges. A success, at last! I haven't been able to properly introduce another mutation of the deathclaw virus without catastrophic organ failure (or in Subject-F987's case, muscle falling off the bone ugh that was a mess.) but using Subject-C3753's base DNA as a booster certainly paid off. This adaption will help protect the spine from damage, and is one of the original strain mutations. Pity Dr. Filo offed himself, his skin engineering would've been helpful. Urgh, if Vault-Tec headquarters hadn't been blown to smithereens from that shit war I would've sent them a pissed off message about how incompetent most of their staff are.   
Have to do everything myself around here.   
  
Entry 55-19337   
  
Aaaaand another damn wall.   
While the physical changes are coming along slow and steady they still are terrible mentally. Just stupid dumb animals and ANYONE can make mutated rabid animals. It's not that damn hard but making them intelligent is. As it is I've managed to get the current strain to last nearly a year before they become so rage filled and anxious they need to be put down.   
It's...   
Hm, maybe if I keep some alive past the stage of their mental degradation perhaps they'll adapt to it eventually? Like a more...age adaptiveness. After all we all know how shitty teenagers are, so maybe this is just them going bonkers.   
  
Entry 55-19877   
  
Well that didn't work. It got to the point of autocannibalism in all of the seven I kept alive. Subject-F8921's case they got through both legs and had started on an arm before dying from blood loss. At least it shows the new strain durability with traumatic injuries so there was that. All subjects got recycled.   
Ah, time to start over.   
  
Entry 55-19890   
  
Why are they so self destructive?   
I had a brief glimmer of hope and as usual it's squashed!   
  


  
Entry 70-1111   
  
The effect of radiation on myself and the other staff is...interesting, to say the least. Reminds me of the story of Hiashi Ouchi, but those who have survived retain mobility. True, my skin has peeled off and most of my hair has fallen out along with my finger nails but it's no great loss. My fellow staff who didn't die in the radiation explosion are going through the same transformation. Interestingly enough we are also immune to radiation and in fact become healed by it. I also don't need to eat as frequently and testing has shown my cells have stopped aging. So again, perhaps longevity? Will we die of old age in this state? Some that changed went completely mad however, so I locked them inside cells to use as test subjects. Only leaves me, the overseer and several others. I've also decided to start a division of testing with that- due to the introduction of the FEV subjects by default are incredibly resistant, if not immune, to radiation but perhaps by combining that with the 'ghouls' will help encourage stability.   


Entry 87-34190   
  
Juggling strength yet retaining human intelligence is difficult. It's been nearly a hundred and fifty years and damnit I still haven't cracked this. Either they're too weak and die from massive organ failure a few months down the line or just become stupid animals. Especially if I don't get the balance correct between the gene splicing and FEV administration. Most the time they die shortly after. Urgh, why is it so hard to get this right? What am I doing wrong???   


Entry 87-34211   
  
Trying to introduce the strain to specimens still in utero resulted in failure- severe miscarriage which killed over ninety percent of the carriers.   
Damnit.   
The ones who were carried to term died within minutes of their birth, all misshapen and most missing limbs, essential organs or in one case half of their brain. Urgh, well at least I can recycle that back into the food storage systems, even if the radiation uunfortunately sterilized over half of the population. I need to cull them from the herd shortlyy. But why can't I figure thsis out?   


  
Sterility stuff Entry   
  
Iiit's becoming a consistent phenomena that those being exposed to the virus become sterile.  
I am unsure about this, considering previously it didn't occur- pEEerhaps the higher amounts of FEV being used is what is causing it. Making them sterile isn't one of the goals.   
If they are successfully created, remain stable AND are viable weapons then breeding them would be a great thyme saver.  
As is if they remain sterile there is too much of a rysk they will die out, especially if anyone of scientific worth dies and their gene codes will become obsolete with no one capable of inducing more genetic mutation.   
As is, ttthe sterility is an odd by product- you would think a viral weapon would want to breed, to reproduce so the sterility is confusing and makes know sense.   
It is an undesired traiil and we must find a way to overcome it. It is a useless evolutionary trait and creates a finite amount of that breed.   


* * *

  
Entry 91-78322   
  
Success!   
I've managed to blend a combination of the stain, using FEV as a basce genome changer but augmenting it with the DGC and adding some of my own into it. This radiation turned out to be a blessisssng in disguise.   
Due to the radiation it's essentially destroying my DNA system, along with my fellow 'ghouls', even the feral ones. As it is, my genetic code has broken down into such a basic strain I figured using it as a base measure to balance out both the FEV and DGC for them to grow from finally brought about ffrustration.   
Which is wonderful considering the slowly dwindling Vault population. Truthfully I haven't been paying them much attention, due to my work, and even getting rid of the sterilized ones left less than one hurndred. Keeping a sustainable breeding population is looking slimn as keeping genetic variance to prevent disabilities in offspring. The radiation hasn't leaked after the blast but the damage has been done unfortunately. Aund, perhaps II am being ovvezealous with my usage of subjects but as it is the fault in the power system is concerning. None of the remaining staff are adapt at repairing the central power core. Feeding the main population is taking too much effort even if culling them down helped ease demand. At least the lottery means these idiots are still blissfully unawaree.   
  


Johnny leaned away from the computer with a scowl on his face, resisting the urge to shove the computer off the table. Despite his distaste he was thankful in Vault 111 the only experiment was keeping them frozen. While he'd been exhausted and confused after waking at least he wasn't turned into a twisted monster like the hapless Vault 24 inhabitants.

It became fairly obvious the main population of the Vault had all died in whatever foolish experiments were being performed on them, with their bodies being tossed into the meat processing area to be recycled. He was unsure what had happened with the Vault staff but apparently some type of radiation blast killed the majority of them and the rest slowly died from the radiation and the survivors were also recycled.

When he scrolled through the latest entries the spelling got worse and worse with ramblings from the remaining scientist. Johnny wasn't sure if he had started going mad from isolation or if the radiation started eating away at his brain. Johnny remembered all the posters slapped up everything about preparing for potential nuclear apocalypse and how to protect one self along with the dangers of radiation.

  
Entry 96-78823   
  
Sloywly but surely I believe I have reaced another break through. I have successfulllllly spliced four subcts with the FEV and DGC that had been augmenrted with the ghoulified genetic coding and it worke!!! Theey have the booodies that wokr for them and tehy steil retain intelligence !! noo bodily break down! longeiticit is a problem howeve as theyu died after only threee years They dye so quicckly i need to fix that part   
  
Entrey 96-80011   
  
hm adddded too much ghoul alst batch and theiir scalves flaked off, not good for bullelt anjd armour peoetction need to keep deathkclaw boody, also tooo hreene   
urop  
  
entry 100-94 i think   
  
downn to last tebne dwellers last batch eighytu FAILED   
aah well nearly done!!!! i;m masing!   
just have to get this batchjed right   
first two had their brainsk overly sweell inside skull and them died from brain truama,   
thirds committedd suicide after compltely trandofmred uurgh suseless!   
fourthj and fifthy worked good andncould talk bity then tneuy tried eo escaped and the security suystend killed them- scaljes too softe   
sixth sworked perfectlye cpt was blind, so culled   
hababve to PERFECTn FINAl one for the sfinal ones im so clsoed!   
ugh nedd more mentacts muy head kilin me   
  
entyr 103 sonethin   
  
dodwn to ginal two   
mother and her sonn   
moth bout early twenties? son eught   
heLTJY both can do this   
  
entry 1000000000000000000000000000000000000   
  
mother died for fjuskcsake   
immunse sysmeten failed, prexisting confition from fev   
BUT used dna to fix ehr son and he sis ery prominisng and had intrfouced strain and his geneticios i eatoin it right up   
he has so goos poitential   
smart, yoiung, not hyet hormon riddled and motjer strain is matching well with geneitc code and laso startein bbodiliyy mutation   
it WILL work with bikn   
  
enryyu   
  
DON TALK   
  


That was the final entry and Johnny looked back over the gibberish of the previous entries. It looked as if the doctor had lost his mind slowly, completely consumed with succeeding with his genetic modifications. The comment about being over a hundred years old was strange and Johnny wondered if Ferdinand used himself as a guinea pig or was partially cybernetic; implants and the likes became more and more common as the war dragged on, as America raced to overtake China. 

He leaned back in the plush seat, studying the green text on the screen. There didn't seem to be any happy end to Vault 24, which seemed to have succeeded with its original directive at the cost of both the science division and the main, unaware, population. The hundreds of people they burned through was ridiculous especially with how barren the environment was outside. Johnny wasn't sure what was worse, living top side or inside the Vault. Considering how deformed the subjects were, perhaps dying in a post-nuclear hellhole wasn't that bad.

Then he remembered that bear and wasn't overly sure. 

Shaking that off Johnny searched through Ferdinand's office. There were some more preserved roses and a dozen empty tins of mentats. He also found a stash of liquor in the small safe beneath the doctor's bed along with a sheet of magazines. He was tempted to take one of the coats since they looked warm and well made but they absolutely reeked of roses to the point he felt almost nauseous from the sheer stench so he shut the cupboard door and decided not to go that route.

He also found a collection of dinosaur figures in the bathroom, neatly lined up above the cabinet. They were cute admittedly and made Johnny nostalgic- he remembered being taken to one of the museums when he was far younger with Nicolas and excitedly pointing out the huge dinosaur skeletons while trying and failing to pronounce the names. 

Pushing away those bittersweet memories Johnny ended up going back down to the maintenance level to grab the crowbar. Going back to Ferdinand's office he broke the top drawer of the desk, wherein he found the swipe card for the Overseer's office. There was also a Nuka-Cola Quantum there, glowing as bright as when he was released. He wasn't very fond of Quantum but took it anyway. The crowbar, after some dithering, he decided to keep as well since he wasn't sure if he had to jimmy into another drawer or door. That and he could potentially use it to bash some monsters head in if need be.

The other two rooms before the end of the corridor were more bedrooms, mussed and lived in but still long empty. One had an empty fish tank and the other looked as if someone had thrown a tantrum, with contents strewn across the ground and the desk broken with the computer lying in a bent heap against one of the walls. Poking around it revealed no interesting items, even if there was an entire collection of Shakespeare in the safe at the back. It wasn't of any use to Johnny so he left the papers inside.

That just left the Overseer's office, to which Johnny was fairly sure was the means to access the armoury. Swiping the card he took from the desk let the door rumble to life, the door sliding upwards with a near inaudible noise. Johnny was about to just walk inside when he heard the shift of fabric and a low raspy noise, like someone with a cold trying to suck in a breath.

There was someone inside.

Johnny tensed up, slipping around to the side before peeking cautiously around the steel door frame. The inhabitant was standing halfway on the circular desk, one foot on the floor and the other on the desk. They were bent over slightly, arms stretched out at their sides as if for balance and swaying back and forth. They were tall, wearing a filthy white trench coat with the mattered furred hood pulled up and elbow length crimson gloves. Johnny felt the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end, fairly sure that was Dr. Ferdinand, the last scientist in Vault 24 and the one in charge of making those deformed monstrous things he'd seen inside the cells of the dead Vault.

The reek of rotten flesh and roses roiled out of the now-opened door and caused him to gag slightly; even with his mouth covered by his hand the noise caused the thing's head to snap around, so it was looking over its shoulder directly at him. Johnny flinched back on reflex, hand quickly dropping to his pistol as he recoiled at the grisly sight.

The man's face was rotted with exposed muscle and tendons twitching with the nose gone, leaving a bloodied, empty hole. Oozing pustules filled with a poisonous luminescent bile dotted bulged on the peeling skin of his forehead while cloudy white eyes stared over at Johnny. The thing's mouth dropped open, showing blackened teeth before it sucked in a breath and _screamed._

* * *


	10. Zombie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [The Gang](https://skelelovely.tumblr.com/image/174167331631)

* * *

The scream caused a primal part of Johnny to take over, to be encompassed by an almost overriding panic to _flee._ The sudden flood of adrenaline through his body made him jolt, body tensing even as Ferdinand turned fully before launching himself at Johnny with rotten mouth agape as if the zombie intended to swallow him whole. Out of sheer relax Johnny jumped backwards and slapped the button to shut the door, hitting Ferdinand halfway.

Ferdinand however was strong- stronger than Johnny thought possible for someone who looked like a decaying corpse -and managed to yank up the door so hard he nearly broke the rolling mechanism with a horrid grating noise.

Stumbling backwards, Johnny yanked up his pistol in sweat-soaked hands and shot Ferdinand four times in rapid succession.

The bullets didn't even make Ferdinand pause in his clawing up the door, his blood rancid as oozed from the countless bullet holes blooming across his chest and stomach as he charged forward. He hit Johnny sideways, nearly biting his nose off as one of his flailing arms smacked Johnny hard in the abdomen, nearly knocking him over and making him drop his pistol.

Despite feeling vomit catch in his throat Johnny managed to get a grip on the handle of the knife tucked into his belt, pulling it free and ramming the blade into Ferdinand's face. It sunk into the rotten flesh of his cheek to the hilt with a soft _thunk_ and clipping his molars. However Ferdinand didn't even flinch at the impact, his clawed fingers swiping at Johnny's eyes and ripping open shallow scraps along his cheekbone and forehead before getting a handful of his fringe.

Grabbing at Ferdinand's wrist with both hands Johnny kicked the zombie hard in the gut, knocking him away and ripping out a chunk of his hair in the process. With an ugly wet noise like tearing cardboard Johnny inadvertently pulled off Ferdinand's elbow-length crimson glove and the upper part of his skin which seemed to have glued itself to the fabric. Blood splattered the wall and Johnny's shirt even as Ferdinand screamed before headbutting Johnny in the temple, knocking him down with a yelp of pain.

The exposed muscles and tendons in Ferdinand's arms pulsed but the crimson blood oozed like sluggish tar. The smell of rotting meat strangled the air, nearly making Johnny vomit as blood splattered the ground next to his head as Ferdinand stumbled forward as if drunk. Scrambling to grab the crowbar Johnny had to kick Ferdinand in the chest to avoid getting a clawed finger in the eye. Ferdinand did get a mouthful of his boot however, teeth sinking into the hard leather and dragging Johnny a few feet on his back like a rabid dog.

By the time Johnny managed to yank the crowbar out to arch forward and smack Ferdinand across the jaw, his boot was a slobbery mess and his spine started pulsing worryingly. Ferdinand jumped back, only to trip over the glove full of his own flesh and fall over. Taking advantage Johnny jumped back up to his feet- ignoring the numbness creeping down his leg -and tried to bash Ferdinand's head in with the crowbar. The zombie stopped it with his rotted hand but yanking it away caused Johnny to tear out his fingers with the curved tip.

Foul smelling pus and blood burst from Ferdinand's knuckles in a rancid spray, two fingers remaining on his hand even as the rest landed on the floor like twitching maggots.

 _Shit,_ Johnny thought, lips curled and breath tight even as Ferdinand struggled to scramble back to his feet. Backing away, Johnny quickly ducked into a nearby office and shutting the door with a loud _woosh._ Not even a second later Ferdinand crashed into the other side, clawing at the metal manically and shrieking.

"How the fuck am I supposed to kill him?" Johnny hissed to himself as Ferdinand continued to beat against the door, grimacing slightly as he slumped to his knees. His lower spine was now fully numb as was most of his legs but at lest locking himself in the room would buy him enough time to regain his footing- literally. It didn't really solve the issue of the crazy zombie screaming and clawing outside. 

Johnny couldn't exactly live in the room forever, as much he liked to, and a part of him cursed himself out for not leaving the Vault when he had the change. Finding that meat facility should've been the last straw for how fucked the place was but instead he decided to go further in and find a damn _zombie_ of all things. He'd watched _White Zombie_ and _Voodoo Man_ to recognize one of those things even if Ferdinand was in a far worse shape than those movie undead.

He didn't have his gun and his knife was still probably stuck in Ferdinand's jaw. All he had left was a crowbar and he wasn't entirely sure if he could kill Ferdinand with it. He did still have some alcohol left so potentially he could stuff some rags in it and if he scavenged the room he was relatively sure he could find a lighter to make a Molotov. But then again it would be highly likely Ferdinand wouldn't give a damn and then Johnny would have to deal with a _flaming_ zombie attacking him.

The only other thing he had on hand was the crowbar and he shifted up so he was sitting on his shins, eyeing the cold bar of metal in his hands. The curved end still had bits of rancid skin clinging to it and Johnny made a face even as Ferdinand threw himself at the door again. Even behind the thick steel Johnny could hear the muffled slobbering noises the zombie was making and his fingers tightened around the crowbar.

The only good thing was that Ferdinand seemed to have the intelligence of an animal; he didn't seem to realize he could just press the button next to the door in order to open it. Instead he just continued clawing at the metal and screaming, loud enough Johnny grimaced even on the other side of a solid steel wall and door. He got the feeling Ferdinand wouldn't get bored and leave in a hurry. As it was, Johnny would have to wait until he regained the feeling in his legs before he could do anything.

Johnny leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the raging of the zombie outside as he struggled to think up a plan. He couldn't just stay trapped in the room forever. His fingers clenched around the cold length of the crowbar, his eyes following the curve down to the pointed tip.

 _He's rotting..._ Johnny thought, pressing his index finger against the point. Ferdinand's skin had peeled off inside his glove and his fingers had torn off with disturbing ease. He hit hard but it was as if his skin had turned into papier-mâché; even his bones were brittle. _Maybe it was from all the radiation? Would that do such a thing?_

While he wasn't learned in radiation he'd seen the countless commercials warning of its effects but he never dreamed zombification would be one of the results. One that turned people in rabid animals. Ferdinand also clearly had no pain threshold anymore or his mind had rotted to the point he just didn't care so Johnny was fairly certain that even if he managed to smash one of Ferdinand's kneecaps the zombie would just drag himself after him.

He was broken from his thoughts with a groan of pain as pins and needles crawled their way up his legs and a sharp throb built up in the small of his back. Despite clenching his jaw, Johnny welcomed the pain. He couldn't just sit in a room in a dead Vault waiting to die like everyone else. He needed to kill Ferdinand and his only weapon on hand was a goddamn crowbar.

But if he managed to cave in Ferdinand's head, then perhaps it would be enough to kill him. Beheading would probably work, Johnny was sure. Unless Ferdinand ended up being like a chicken and could survive. If that was the case then nothing Johnny did would work. If he managed to inflict enough head trauma though it could kill Ferdinand, or even impaling his skull with the pointed end of the crowbar. His flesh and bones were malleable. It _could_ work.

With a pained noise Johnny got back onto his feet, trying to ignore the searing pain pulsating up and down his spine. His knuckles were pressing tight against his skin, grip aching on the length of metal. 

Then, after a brief moment of thought, he pressed the button and let the door open.

Ferdinand burst in, half stumbling at the sudden give. When he twisted around to lunge, Johnny smashed the crowbar into the side of his skull, making the zombie stumble to the side. One of his flailing arms cracked Johnny across the jaw however and sent him hard onto the ground. Ferdinand went crashing into the desk, a noticeable dent in his skull, and shrieking loudly enough it was making his ears ring. Still gripping the crowbar Johnny rolled back up to his feet, left leg dragging behind him as he stumbled out of the office. As soon as he was in the hallway he twisted around and raised the crowbar just as Ferdinand threw himself at him again.

The tip of the crowbar punctured Ferdinand's eyeball, an ugly spurt of jelly and blood that splattered across Johnny's face in a foul spray.

Ferdinand's own momentum killed him- with his lunge it was too quick and heavy, the tip of the crowbar still wedged into his eye as Johnny's legs collapsed underneath him. When Johnny fell over Ferdinand crashed headlong into the wall opposite, the curved slope of the crowbar jamming right into one of the fissures in the steel with the tip being rammed deeper into his eye socket and then puncturing through the back of his skull and through the curve of his hood in a crimson spray.

He remained transfixed in place, arms raising slightly before falling down like a wonky puppet. It almost looked like he was leaning over with his forehead braced against the wall, collapsed at such an angle Ferdinand was still upright via the impaled crowbar.

Johnny scrambled back on his hands, muscle spasms roiling through lower half as he struggled to regain his footing. His legs were shaking like a newborn foal, left almost entirely numb and right shaking spasmodically. Ferdinand remained stuck in place, putrid smelling blood oozing down the length of the crowbar jutting from his eye before sliding down the wall. Even so Johnny was half ready to sprint down the hallway, regardless of how badly his legs were shaking and spine was on fire. Ferdinand however didn't move and was silent, compared with his earlier shrieks and gurgling snarls.

With sweaty hands he managed to pick his pistol off of the floor, eyes never leaving Ferdinand's now still form. Johnny shot Ferdinand through the neck with the last bullet, the bullet easily puncturing the sagging skin and ricocheted further down the hall with a horrid _bang_. Ferdinand didn't react to being shot, beyond his body jolting from the impact like gelatin but remained upright and wedged against the wall. Rivulets of pus and blood oozed from his punctured eye, the foul smell nearly making Johnny gag.

 _He's dead._ A small hysterical laugh escaped Johnny even as his breath came in tight pants as if he was near a panic attack.

Nearly dropping his pistol he managed to get the gun back into its holster with fumbling movements, hands slick with sweat and heart thudding in his chest, before slumping against the wall and sliding slowly to the ground. Awkwardly he pulled off his backpack, rummaging around it before pulling out a slim needle tucked in one of the side pockets.

With shaky fingers Johnny jammed the needle into his forearm, injecting the Med-X into his system which rapidly numbed the pain reverberating through his body and stilled his tremours. The ebbing adrenaline was nullified somewhat but Johnny felt bile thick in his throat and gut. Swallowing back the sour taste, he tossed the needle aside and rested his sweaty forehead against the steel wall. His legs felt numb and spasms roiled down his spine but the pain was distant thanks to the drug swiftly working through him.

He also dug out his nearly empty bottle of Buffout, chewing down one of the green pills with nervous movements and then downing a second. It was chalky but familiar, swallowing it down while staring at Ferdinand's still body. _I killed it._

By the time his shaking had ebbed and his back didn't feel like it keeping him on the verge of screaming, the bloody wound on the zombie's rotten face had clogged up with a plug of pus. Johnny reluctantly put away the bottle of Buffout, slinging his backpack back on and painfully getting back up to his feet. His leg muscles ached terrible and his left leg was still dragging but the combined drugs kept it to a minimum as he hobbled down the hall, skirting right around Ferdinand's dead body in case it pounced at him again. Still disturbing to look at, however, so he quickly averted his eyes as he went back into the final room.

Carefully Johnny inched his way into the Overseer's office, half convinced another monster was going to come flying out of the shadows and rip his face off. Instead it was dusty and empty, with the oval desk set up in the middle of the room and countless monitors hiked up high on the wall across from it. On either side of the room was two experiment cells with dust-caked windows and sealed doors. However there was another door directly across the room, at the bottom of a ramp below the cluster of monitors. The armoury, no doubt.

Ignoring it he shifted his attention to the Overseer's desk which was cluttered with a large mount of junk from old clipboards and pencil cases to broken photo frames and rotten books. There was also a skeleton in one of the back corners, spine separated from its pelvis and the decayed remains of a Vault 24 jumpsuit clinging to it. He wondered if that was the late Overseer or one of the other scientists. He resisted the urge to kick at the dead body, hobbling around to peer through the right experiment cell window. He had to scrub his hand through the dust but when he peered inside the cell was empty. He half expected for there to be another zombie in there akin to Ferdinand.

But there was nothing, just the same inside console, tubes and cabinets lining the walls. Peering through he eventually went to the other cell but stopped to lean his head against the filthy glass as the muscles in his back cramped. The blood that had oozed from his torn out hair had stained his forehead in red streaks but Johnny didn't care. The cool glass was nice against the scabbing wound and he sighed deeply, feeling inordinately tired.

Then he realized there was something moving inside the remaining cell.

* * *


	11. Sole Survivor

* * *

For a long moment Johnny struggled to understand what the hulking shape was, that it was something alive, with a fang-filled snout pressing against the dirty glass. When Johnny did realize just _what_ it was he recoiled violently, jumping backwards while grabbing at the butt of his gun. However he was too close to the chair and promptly tripped over it, hitting the steel ground with a painful jarring thud along his spine and hip. With a grunt he scrambled back up to his feet, running back through the doorway and nearly running into Dr. Ferdinand's corpse, still impaled against the wall. He was about to take off down the hallway when his logic finally caught up with him, stopping him mid stride, muscles tense and heart pumping but listening intently; no footsteps following or breaking glass indicating it was in pursuit.

 _Of course it couldn't get out. Otherwise it would've killed you already,_ Johnny berated himself, trying to calm his breathing down. It was big, whatever it had been so when he inched back to the doorway he peeked around it cautiously. The shadow in the room was still there, lurking close to the glass even if it was so caked with filth he couldn't make out its details from so far away.

He hadn't seen a 'finished' experiment from whatever they had been doing in the Vault but the thing inside had been alive and watching him. _But it's contained. Get over it and get back in there. That's where the armoury is._ He may have killed Ferdinand but that was pure stupid luck. If the zombie had gotten a hold of him it most likely would've torn his head right off. Same with the hideous bear thing that nearly killed him in the office or that giant scorpion he spied once. He needed better weapons, since the dinky little pistol wasn't going to cut it if there were even more monsters running around out there.

With that in mind he swallowed back his fear, walking back into the room with a nonchalance he really didn't feel. The thing inside the leftmost cell hadn't moved much after he had run from the room and now that Johnny was calm he could see the old scratches and grime on the windowpane- it must have tried to claw its way out before but the thick glass and metal had resisted its efforts. _Well obviously, moron._

Inching closer to the cell he could see the computer set up next to the heavily fortified door and the small intercom below the window. The chief physician of the Vault had turned into some kind of insane zombie and considering the computer notes and corpses in some of the rooms, Johnny figured whatever was in there was one of the final experiments of Vault 24. Probably the only living one left which made it a sole survivor like he was. As for all Johnny hated his own Vault at least all they did was turn him into an ice cube. Not like the deformed things inside the cells, the dead doctor outside the room and the scaled monster staring at him.

"What the hell did they do to you?" Johnny muttered, leaning forward until his nose nearly touched the dirty glass to try and figure out the details of the beast. He could see the hunched back, shoulder blades having numerous spikes jutting from them and a thick muscular neck to support the heavy head and large horns that curled forward.

Then a large palm slapped onto the glass, just in front of his face and made him jump. He didn't fall over his time, even if his heart jolted with the sudden movement and his hand grabbed his pistol. After a moment he realized the thing had just smacked the glass to frighten him.

"Fuck you," Johnny snapped at it. The thing pulled its hand away, opening its jaws slightly but otherwise didn't try attacking the glass again. He didn't even know why he was surprised, considering he'd seen contained gorillas and the like do the same thing in zoos.

Turning away from the thing he walked to the desk, which resembled the one he'd found in the Overseer's office with a circular table and central computer. Unlike the other office however this one had nearly thirty monitors on the wall in front, bracketed by the two cell windows. Johnny recognized the images on the working monitors as showing the interior of the main Vault and all of the holding cells.

Privacy can just piss off then, I guess," Johnny grumbled as he sat down in the chair, tapping the keys on the main computer until he go into the coding. He still wasn't any good at it and after trying for nearly ten minutes he gave up with a noise of disgust, throwing a chipped cup at one of the monitors on the wall and breaking it. There were too many variants in the code and he got sick of logging out and logging back in.

The thing in the cell jerked its head up with the motion but otherwise did nothing, even as Johnny started digging through the dozens of sheets of paper and clipboards on the filthy desk. There had to be a password or something.

"How the fuck do I open the armoury?" he muttered. He hated the Vault and wanted to get out, and that _thing_ still staring at him from the cell wasn't helping his shot nerves as he searched.

He did find a bobblehead in the lower drawer of the table, with the mascot having hands up in a boxing stance. When he picked it up, the sentence, _'When words fail there is always fists'_ was etched around the base plinth with delicate letters. He snorted, taking the bobblehead for no real reason. There was a nice dumb sense of normalcy in wanting more of them; like how people would gather coins or baseball cards like some kind of post-nuclear hobby.

He held it up to the thing in the cell, saying snidely, "Guess this applies to you then, huh?" as he wobbled it.

It looked at the bobblehead then up at Johnny, nodding its horned head in a ponderous movement. He scoffed, looking back at the little statue as he sat it back down and flicking a finger to make the head wobble before it clicked what the thing had just done. He flinched, snapping his head up and getting out of the chair until he was nearly right up against the glass of the cell.

"You just nodded- you can understand me, can't you?" Johnny said, looking at the thing avidly. After a moment it nodded again and made some odd motions with its arm but Johnny tried his best to squash the rising hope in his chest; for all he knew the thing was just responding to him being in front of the glass, since it was clearly a two way mirror, with how avidly the creature was following his movements.

"You're one of the Vault dwellers here, aren't you?" It just stared at him so he pressed on with, "The experiments Ferdinand was doing? That FEV shit and whatever?"

It didn't nod this time, instead with slowly movements the scaled creature pressed the knuckle of a finger against the dust caked window of its room before writing something in swooping letters on the filthy glass;

Dinosauriformes

He stared at the writing, delicate and neat before looking at the thing inside the cell. It just gazed back placidly, the details difficult to see with the sheer dirt and dust caked on the window but Johnny was relatively sure the thing had creepy humanesque eyes. He expected them to be cloudy and sunken, like Ferdinand's or glowing like some demonic beast.

Looking back over at the word Johnny sat down in front of the central computer and typed it in; with a small _click_ it was accepted and the interface quickly opened up. He wasted no time in using it to unlock the armoury door and hurrying down the ramp.

The armoury was a disappointment- at least for weapons Johnny could use. There was a gigantic minigun, a rocket launcher, a flamethrower and several boxes of grenades and more ammunition he could shake a stick at. Johnny wasn't able to lift any of the huge weapons, straining even to just shove them aside. He did take a police baton which he hooked through his belt and a handful of grenades. There was a crate of ammo for his 10mm pistol and he took numerous handfuls, shoving them into one of the pockets of his backpack and reloading the clip but to his annoyance the main weapons were too heavy for him to take. He wanted something like a shotgun or grenade launcher maybe, considering that zombie and messed up bear but didn't exactly trust himself with a flamethrower. Johnny had a horrible feeling there were other monsters like that in the crappy post-nuclear world, like the zombie thing Ferdinand had turned into. For all he knew that was what happened to every human exposed to the bombs which probably meant the majority of America.

_Fucking radiation._

Stalking out of the armoury he slammed a fist on the switch, shutting it behind him with a bang and a curse.

"Now that shit is done, what am I supposed to do with you?" he asked the thing inside the cell. It was rhetorical more than anything but it responded.

It huffed, clouding the glass of its cell before reaching out a hand and writing again in the dust.

My name is Diego.

"Oh...Um, I'm Johnny," he replied awkwardly after a beat of silence. He felt the urge to twiddle his thumbs but resisted it. A polite greeting wasn't exactly what he expected, especially being over four weeks without any interactions with another sentient being.

The thing looked at him with its horned head cocked to the side before pointing at an angle with its sharp talon and he followed the direction to realize it was pointing at the intercom. Making a face he pressed on the intercom button, repeating his name back to it. The thing- Diego -nodded, leaning closer until its muzzle was resting on the glass and leaving fading fog from its hot breath.

"You are one of the original Vault dwellers here, aren't you?" Johnny tried again.

Another nod.

Yes. Myself and mother were the last subjects. I survived. 

"What...what happened to Ferdinand? Why is he all fucked up like that?" Johnny asked, gesturing to the exit way of the office with one hand, the other pressed hard on the button.

Diego thought that over for a moment, leaning back while tapping a long talon on his scaled snout in a disturbingly human gesture and Johnny had to remind himself Diego _was_ a human. Or at least use to be. He did that gesture again before writing on the filthy glass with a knuckle.

Do not know. When I saw him years ago his face was rotted. Then once I fully turned he slowly stopped talking. Turned into a dumb animal.

"How'd you live here so long?"

Food and water in here, automatic dispensing. However cannot get out without help. Assist?

Diego paused, pulling back a scaly hand before quickly scribbling something below the sentence.

Trioceros_jacksonii

The request was obvious but Johnny narrowed his eyes at the thing. The teeth, horns, scales, claws. It. _Him._ The experiment was even more creepy and fierce looking than the twisted bear and zombified doctor. Johnny was also sure that if he _did_ let the experiment out, he would not be able to kill it even if he magically got the strength to use the minigun and flamethrower in the armoury. He only managed to kill Ferdinand by sheer blind luck and his pistol probably wouldn't even graze the experiment's scales if it came after him.

It would be far safer and more sensible to just gas the thing while it was trapped inside its cell. Kill it. Or even just leave the Vault and leave it there, contained.

But.

The thing, Diego, was the only intelligent creature Johnny had run into within the post nuclear apocalyptic hellhole the whole country had been turned into. He'd spent weeks wandering out there but had only found deformed animals and skeletal remains of people long dead. He was loathe to admit it but he had been getting more and more isolated and twitching, with a horrid fear he was the only one left. The animal attacks certainly didn't help and he felt that if any other people had survived they would be fucked up zombies like Ferdinand and just try killing him. He hadn't explored enough but a month has passed and all Johnny had found was bones and monsters.

Looking carefully at Diego, who just stared back placidly, Johnny went to the computer and typed in the proffered password. The console promptly let him in and he expected it to be filled with scientific jargon or insane ramblings like many of the others but instead there was only two options available on screen.

His finger hovered over the button to purge it, sneaking a glance at the thing only to find it was already staring at him. Through the wiped glass of the words Johnny could see its eyes staring intently at him and realized that, for all its scaled features and deformed body, it still very much had human eyes. They were blue, just a shade brighter than his own and he felt oddly nervous with it staring at him so closely through the glass.

_I should kill it._

He really should. If it turned out to be hostile, he probably wouldn't live long enough to regret it.

The low whine of the siren sounded while the light above the door way flashed as soon as the 'Release' option was chosen, with the creature inside the cell perking up before moving towards the door even as Johnny moved backwards while the door ground open.

_He better not fucking kill me._

It had to crouch over slightly to get through the doorway, pausing mid-step before inhaling deepling as it stalked out of its cell and Johnny could finally see the whole thing without a grimy window in the way; Short snouted face with thick curled horns, a hunched back with jutting spikes, overly long arms ending in humanoid hands with talons, digitigrade legs and long crocodile tail. If anything it reminded him of a wingless dragon, all scaled hide and pointy bits.

The thing was also a lot bigger up close. He didn't even reach its shoulder.

"Um. Hey." Johnny said, hunching his shoulders defensively even as his fingers twitched for his pistol, for what little it would do.

This time it- _he_ -wrote on the wall, sharp claw gouging out delicate lines on the steel with disturbing ease. The letters were neat, despite the fact he stared at Johnny the whole time he scratched out the words.

My name is Diego. 

"Right, right. Uh, Diego. I'd ask you if you had any idea what's going on outside but I guess you wouldn't know." Johnny said awkwardly, feeling ridiculously small and vulnerable. Diego could bite his head off easily enough and claws the same length as his finger.

Diego grunted, looking annoyed, scaled muzzle curling up like a snarling dog before it just as quickly shifted to neutrality. Taking another step forward he bent his muscular neck down until his snout was only a few inches form Johnny's nose. He nearly went cross eyed from the large fangs being so close.

Then Diego sneezed in his face.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Deathclaw](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/fallout/images/b/bb/Deathclaw_fo4.png/revision/latest?cb=20160101191326)


	12. Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had written this chapter before but my browser died and I lost it all so it probably seems choppy since I'm rage writing :/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Johnny doesn't have a high enough INT/PER combo to understand Diego's sign language lol he can get the basics but anything more is beyond his Kentucky ass

* * *

Mucus splattered across his face, Johnny's face twisted up as he shut his eyes on reflex. For a very long moment he didn't move before slowly raising his right hand and scrubbing his face with his wrist band.

"Thanks. Thanks for that." Johnny said coldly. The knee jerk fear he'd felt over seeing Diego's monstrous form outside of the cell was being quickly buried under anger and exhaustion.

Diego just shrugged, rolling his massive shoulders, before wiping at his nose with with a scaly hand. His scales were a dirty brown mixed with grey in the dull light. Then he turned around and began to leave the Overseer's office, without bothering to look back at Johnny. 

"I- Hey, hey! Get back here," Johnny snapped, rushing forward. As he did his legs abruptly gave out, spending him sprawling across the ground with a grunt of pain and scraped elbows. Lying prone he felt as if his whole body started pulsing, reminding him abruptly of how bruised and battered he was with the Med-X only doing so much, especially with it slowly wearing off.

He lay there for what seemed like hours before clawed hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him back up to his feet. His legs immediately buckled, Johnny grabbing onto one of Diego's horns on instinct to avoid collapsing. He snorted but didn't try to shake Johnny off him, roughly grabbing his waist with a hand and putting Johnny on the Overseer's seat. Johnny tried not to think about how Diego's scaled hand was able to span the width of his waist, instead gripping the fabric of his pants as he straighten his legs out as best he could.

"I have a lousy back," Johnny said bitterly, staring at his knees rather than Diego who hunkered down next to him like a gargoyle, "From an...accident, that happened years ago. I got a lot of surgery but my back gives out if I stress it overly. Makes my legs stop working. I'll be fine a in a few minutes." 

Diego shifted, moving around until he was crouched in front of Johnny. His head was cocked to the side and then he stretched out his neck, muscles flexing in the smooth scales on the underside of his throat. He made a strange warbling noise, something that reminded Johnny weirdly enough of a goose. A dark expression crossed Diego's face, scales shifting as he opened his jaw and made another series of hissing noises.

 _He can't speak,_ Johnny thought, bitter disappointment crawling up in his throat. He'd hoped maybe....but considering the drastic physical changes Diego had been forced through, it wasn't farfetched his vocal cords and mouth would change enough he would be no longer capable of human speech.

Then Diego raised his clawed hands and started making looping, flapping gestures while looking at him expectantly. It took Johnny a few seconds for it to click that Diego was using sign language but while he recognized it, he didn't actually know what Diego was trying to 'say'.

"Uh....I can't understand you," Johnny said, "I can't read sign language."

Diego dropped his hands, glaring at Johnny as if personally pissed off.

He bristled in response, "Don't look at me like that, how the fuck would I know sign language."

This time Diego just blatantly flipped him off, the gesture so unexpected Johnny snapped his mouth shut. _I understood that, at least._

"Do you know what happened outside?" Johnny finally asked after another bout of staring. Diego paused for a few moments before raising both hands and making a crude exploding gesture.

"Right. Well that isn't just Vault bullshit, there really was a nuclear war," Johnny said, "It happened over two hundred years ago but everything outside is still fairly fucked up. Radiation and a wasteland, mutated animals." He paused, eyes flicking over Diego's hulking scaled frame before quickly continuing, "I'm also a Vault dweller like you, from a hundred and eleven. I was cryogenically frozen from before the War. I only woke up around a month ago."

Diego looked at him, leaning forward slightly until Johnny wanted to scoot away from the maw full of teeth. Instead he set his jaw and bore it, despite his instincts insisting he run away and hide somewhere dark before the monster before him devours him.

Then Diego blinked and shifted back as his tail flicked from side to side. Johnny resisted the urge to twist his fingers together, instead directing his attention back to his legs which were slowly and steadily burning with pins and needles. Diego huffed again, his breath ruffling Johnny's blood-sticky fringe which reminded him how filthy and disgusting he was. Johnny grimaced, feeling like he wanted to do nothing more than lie down and sleep but grimaced and forced his attention back on Diego's face.

"How old are you?" he asked bluntly.

Diego raised his hands, flaring them open one, twice before lowering them.

 _So he's twenty,_ Johnny thought, a bit surprised to know Diego was only a year older than he was. Technically Johnny was over two hundred years old but sleeping for most of that time rather nullified it.

After a moment of thought Johnny reluctantly got to his feet, stifling a groan of pain. His legs were shaky and awkward but he forced himself forward, shuffling through the Overseer's office and down the corridor. He tried not to shudder from Diego's hot breath spilling against his nape and instead just kept walking. Johnny half expected to collapse before getting back to the elevator and then to the lottery winner lift but surprisingly his legs held. Diego continued to stare and a part of Johnny honestly thought he'd be mauled but Diego just kept staring with his creepy human eyes.

"What?" Johnny snapped, fed up and sore.

Diego just stared at him some more and Johnny just turned away with a scoff. He tried not to think about how Diego could swat off his head with a single hand.

When the elevator opened back up in the hall of the main Vault Diego immediately walked out and down through the chairs and out into the corridors. Unsure Johnny followed along behind Diego, watching the way his scales shifted with the movement and his tail bobbed from side to side with each step. The sterile lighting and smooth jazz filtering through the Vault didn't fit Diego's hulking and mutated body.

Johnny was surprised when they ended up in the lower levels where the gym and pool was. Diego slid into the pool without a backwards glance, making the surface ripple as he slipped into it and started swimming around underneath like a crocodile. At first Johnny had thought his hide was a dull brown and grey but seeing the thick trail of filth Diego left in the clear water it became clear he was caked in dust, most likely for years.

Making a face Johnny left Diego to it, instead shuffling towards the showers. Prying off his gore splattered clothes he was relieved to find the washing machines tucked in the room next to the showers were still active.

 _Good thing I kept this detergent,_ he thought as he tossed some in with his filthy clothes. He even put in his Vault suit before turning it on and then turned back to the showers.

The hot water was blessing even if his body ached horribly. He knew he'd be bruised for days and wished for some stimpacks to preemptively deal with the soreness but the hot spray soothed the aches somewhat. Johnny also scrubbed through his red hair, grimacing as the wound stung painfully but forcing himself to wash it out- who knew what kind of germs were on a zombie.

By the time he finished showering he felt remarkably better but had to make do with looting a Vault 24 suit from a nearby locker as he waited for his clothes to finishing washing. He settled down on the ground next to the machine, listening to its humming and then falling asleep. The loud _beep!_ of the cycle ending jolted him away with a start, fingers inching towards a gun he didn't have. He stuffed the sodden clothes into the dryer and started it up. Then he went through his backpack, sorting out what he still had and swallowing down the last mouthful of his whiskey. He also ate one of the pottles of salient green which tasted like blended grass clippings but it still filled his gut.

Johnny wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed but made himself stand with a grunt and hobble out of the room. When he checked the pool the water was absolutely filthy but now a sparkling clean Diego was sitting on the tiles, dripping water all over the floor. His scales were a deep blue, darker on top and fading to a lighter blue as it went down his sides. His underside scales were a light, off yellow that matched his ribbed, curling horns.

Diego looked over at him from where he was sprawled out before crossing his arms and resting his chin on them. Then his shut his eyes and looked for all being asleep. Johnny eyed him for a moment from the door away before deciding to leave him alone. He hoped it went without saying that he wanted Diego to be with him outside; if not just for company and security sake. He was sick of being alone and if Diego had been trapped for years then most likely he was as well.

By the time his clothes were finished drying Johnny was barely awake, leaning forward only to jerk back with a snort as sleepiness clawed at his head. Gathering his clothes and shucking on his backpack Johnny shambled from the room and briefly informed Diego he was going to find somewhere to sleep. A deep grunt was his only response so Johnny left him to it, trying to remember where the beds were and by the time he found the living quarters he was barely even conscious. He tossed down his clothes and backpack, uncaring that he was going to sleep in the bed of someone long dead as he peeled back the covers of the first bed he found and crawled into it.

He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Johnny slept deeply and dreamless and woke up warm and slowly, a feeling he hadn't experienced in weeks. He grumbled, nuzzling further into the blankets before something poked him in the nose again. With a groan Johnny swatted it away only for the poking to continue nearly several more times until he was so fed up he yanked his head up and glared at the person bothering him.

Only to see Diego's fang filled snout a few inches from his face.

Johnny screamed out of reflex, jerking backwards only to get tangled in the blankets and fall in a heap on the floor. Diego laughed, a deep huffing noise as his tail flicked from side to side. 

Getting over his fright Johnny yanked off the pillow and threw it at Diego, hitting him square in the face. If anything this just made him laugh harder and Johnny untangled himself from the blankets with a crimson face as he muttered 'asshole' under his breath.

"Can you get out? I need to change," Johnny finally snapped when Diego made no move to leave. He cocked his head to the side, eyeing Johnny for a long moment before shrugging and going outside.

Changing into his usual clothing Johnny, after a brief pause, also stuffed the Vault 24 suit into his backpack. He could probably shred it up for makeshift bandages or a pillow or something if he needed to. As it was, he wanted to get out of the dead Vault while it was still daylight outside.

Once dressed he went and raided the cafeteria, the Mister Handy still hovering behind the counter. It greeted him jovial and Diego by name before offering them the salient green and meat. Johnny avoided the meat, instead stuffing numerous jars of the green stuff into his back and cramming a few stray Nuka-Colas into the other pockets. He also ate another bottle of salient green, which was as weird as he remembered, but at least it was filling and radiation free.

"Do you need anything?" Johnny asked Diego once he threw away the jar in a bad aim at a nearby trash can. 

He just shook his head, ignoring the blabbering Mister Handy before looking expectantly at Johnny. He was fairly confused before it clicked that Diego didn't know how the leave the Vault due to the main corridor being sealed after being filled. Beckoning Johnny led him through the winding corridors of the Vault until they found the Overseer's office. Making his way down the secret tunnel Johnny looked back to see Diego still following, even when they had to step over the broken corpse at the end. Diego sniffed at the dead body before nonchalantly stepping on it, crushing the skull under a scaled foot. Johnny shuddered at the ugly splintering sound before going further into the entry way. It was just as dusty and empty as he remembered but he carefully left the Vault, the catwalk creaking under his slight weight, before entering the cave system.

"At the end there's the gate, it's still attached but you have to climb over these fucked up vehicles," Johnny said, "So we-" 

Then a low droning noise filled the air and instinctively he looked up to the ceiling with a spike of panic at a potential cave in. But then he realized the noise was coming from the Vault entrance and saw with shock that the huge gear was rolling into place before with a deafening screech slid shut. 

For a long moment Johnny stared at the now sealed Vault door in silence before bristling rage flooded through his body. Lunging forward he ineffectively punched the huge door, cursing wildly before turning to the console. Trying to override the entry like he'd done before resulted in an error message popping up onto his Pip-Boy as he was denied.

"Well fuck you then!" Johnny shouted at the door, feeling the hot prickle of tears claw at his eyes, as he realized Diego had locked him out the instant he was outside.

For a second Johnny teetered between bursting into tears or screaming obscenities before he chose the second option. Furious he threw several empty bottles from the ground at the Vault door where they shattered loudly before he turned and stormed out of the cave. He fell over several times and cut the palm of his hand but he clung to the rage over the almost hysterical disbelief that clawed at his gut.

 _Fucking figures the first person I meet in this hellhole doesn't want anything to do with me,_ he thought angrily, clenched fists shaking as he stumbled out of the cave into the wasteland. The brightness of the sun nearly blinded him, making him curse loudly and scrubbing at his face. It was a good excuse anyway. _Fuck him._

Even walking around the hill and along the hard brown earth didn't do much for his roiling emotions, Johnny so furious he completely missed the trail grooves in the earth before he stumbled past the base of the hill and clambering over some rocks before realizing he wasn't actually alone; nearly fifteen metres away was a wagon hitched to a brick red cow, the rickety wood scratched and cracked in places while the cow only had saggy wrinkly skin like a diseased victim and dotted with sores. 

Rage instantly vanishing Johnny ducked back behind the rocks, body tense and eyes wide. The adrenaline of rage ebbed off, leaving him shaky and confused as he very slowly inched his head past the rock to see the wagon again; It was stacked high with countless boxes, clothes and bottles and a large crate in the middle which had a tattered blanket thrown over. a rangy furless dog was walking in circles a few yards in front of the cow while two people in brown clothing stood off to the side in deep discussion. He could see the coils of cigarette smoke drifting up but was too far away to actually hear the conversation. Johnny chewed on his bottom lip, thinking about what to do.

They were people- normal humans he was sure -so a part of him urged himself to go over there. The larger, more cynical part pointed out how stupid that idea was considering what he'd seen before. He had no idea who those people even were and quite frankly his last encounters with living beings left a lot to be desired. He was still pissed over Diego kicking him out of the Vault, even if the scaled thing at least didn't just kill and eat him.

His gaze was snagged by the rustic cow as it shifted in place and he realized something else that was wrong with it; the cow had two mutated heads much like the deer Johnny had seen days before, twin necks jutting from the heavy shoulders. He watched with disgusted fascination as one head bent down to chew on a scraggy shrub while the other one mooed lowly while looking at the people. 

After a moment of dithering he decided not to risk it. His pistol was his only real weapon and he had no idea if those people would be friendly or if they'd loot his corpse after shooting him dead. Or maybe even eat it, he wasn't sure. He could preemptively attack and potentially win but Johnny hadn't exactly had time to dwell upon the implications of shoot another person in the head. Mind made up Johnny began to creep backwards, trying to keep himself as quiet as possible.

Then he felt a gun muzzle press against the back of his head and a harsh voice saying, "Get up slowly or I'll blow your fucking brains out."

* * *


	13. The slavers

* * *

Johnny was frog marched out from around the boulder with a gun to his head and forced down onto his knees next to the wagon. There his supplies were taking, backpack rifled through, binoculars and weapons all removed. He was also bodily searched which had an unnecessary amount of groping under his shirt and along his thighs to which he ended up trying to punch the man doing it. The woman yanked his arm back so hard it felt like she was trying to pry it from its socket and making him grunt from pain.

Despite the pain Johnny was tempted to try ripping out their eyes but he was now unarmed, fairly lousy in a fist fight and the people who caught him were armed to the teeth with spiky armour- the man had a weird wire helmet over his head and looked like some BDSM reject was the one who put the gun to Johnny's head. The woman was more sensible with mostly dark leather but had bone spikes on her shoulder pads. Now at least he could confirm there was only three along with that horrid, mutated dog thing. Still, those three were more than enough to kill or cripple him especially when he was so obviously outclassed.

Johnny also recognized the suit one of the people was wearing as Power armour, something he remembered advertised heavily during the war propaganda during Anchorage, to fight back the Chinese. Fully encasing its wearer with dense thick metal and hissing hydraulics system. However the current suit was thick with rust, with protective wire jutting out the shoulders and collar and the helmet didn't fit, looking like scrap metal fixed together. The person in the suit was also holding a massive minigun and Johnny swallowed nervously; it would mow him down in a second if he attempted to escape.

_Fuck._

With a huff the woman crouched down in front of Johnny. She was pretty despite the dirt and scars but there was an ugliness in her wide green eyes Johnny disliked, even as every instinct told him to run. He wasn't stupid enough to try it though.

The woman smiled at him, showing blackened teeth, "Hiya cutie, my name is Monday. That ugly fucker there-" she pointed to the man with the strange cage on his face, "Is called Marlo and that's Mac and Linda," she pointed at the person in Power armour and then the deformed dog before turning back to him, "Now don't worry sweetie, we're going to take real good care of you."

Johnny glared at her, "Get fucked."

The man with the cage moved forward, yanking back his hand to smack Johnny across the face. He flinched out of reflex but the woman intervened before the blow could land, sizing the man's wrist.

"Hey moron, don't hit the merchandise in the face! You'll devalue him," She shoved Marlo roughly to the side, baring her teeth.

"Who the fuck wants to buy a slave with a messed up face? Christ sake, fucking idiot," the person in Power armour said, voice glitchy and robotic, "This is why you can't do pickups on your own."

"He's a smart mouth. Not like that other one. Could be a problem."

"So? He's healthy and clearly some Vault escapee considering how clean he is. Oi brat, you run out of eighty one?"

Growling low in his throat Johnny refused to answer and the woman shrugged after a moment, "Whatever, he can be as bitchy as he wants. Some buyers like that in a slave, make 'em funner to break in. The boss will be pleased regardless." She eyed him before suddenly seizing his face, jamming her thumbs between his top and bottom teeth, Marlo's grip tightening on his shoulders.

He gagged at the foul taste, trying to yank himself away to no avail as she studied his teeth, "And you've got all your teeth and such a nice white as well!" She said in approving tones before yanking her fingers free of his mouth.

"Ah, he'll fetch a mighty fine price- all his teeth and such a pretty face despite the scowling. Those Vaulties tend to live for quite a while so there's that as well. Oi Marlo, grab me one of those boom collars. The sooner we clap him up the sooner we get to the safe house and we can have a damn lie in."

* * *

The collar chafed.

It was snug enough he could barely wedge a fingertip under the ugly dark metal and whenever he swallowed it dug into his Adams apple. He hated that woman so much when she nimbly snapped the collar around his neck he got the furious, ballistic urge to lunge up and try his best to maul her throat out with his teeth.

However Marlo kept a tight grip on Johnny's upper arms, lurking at his back as Monday fixed the collar around his throat. She cheerfully informed him the collar was explosive so if he tried run away from the key-holder the collar would explode along with his head and most of his torso. 

Johnny knew absolutely nothing about explosives and resisted the urge to shriek and thrash to get away when they clipped it on. Once her mocking was done he was then taken around the back of the wagon the mutated cow was pulling with Monday pulling up the leather tarp; underneath was a heavy iron bared cage, carefully camouflaged by the crates and items slung over the carriage so it could be mistaken for a normal caravan. 

When the heavy door was unlocked Johnny was hoisted up and shoved inside, the door slamming shut behind him before the tarp got pulled back over. At least it was thin and bullet-shot enough he could still see but he nonetheless turned his Pip-Boy light on. And that was when he realized he wasn't alone.

There was another person huddled in the cage, a girl with pale blond hair and coltish limbs. Her dress worn and probably used to be a shade of pink, with a dark red undershirt. A shabby pink cap was being twisted about in her scrawny hands and one of the blinking collars was bound around her neck as well. 

Ignoring her he ineffectively yanked at the collar gripping his throat while swearing under his breath. He was angry, angry at himself for getting in such a stupid situation and angry about those scumbag slavers, wishing he could kill them all. He was also still super pissed at Diego but that took a backseat with actual slavers.

A distressed noise came from the girl, "Don't pull it like that! It'll explode if you pull on it too much!"

Johnny froze, fingers clenching around the metal, "Seriously?"

"Yes. It's happened before," the girl whispered, blue eyes wide and panicked, "So don't play around with it! Unless um, do you know anything about explosives?"

"Why would I know anything about that?" Johnny said, angry. Usually he had the sense of mind to not yell at children- much less ones in slave collars -but Johnny was getting close to outright panic. Figured the first group of human beings he ran into was fucking _slavers._

After him snapping at her the girl shrank in on herself, twisting her cap so violently it was a surprise the worn pink fabric didn't tear in half. He tried yanking on the door of the cage but unless he could punch through metal he wouldn't be escaping in a hurry. Johnny also knew nothing about picking locks so that was a failed escape route as well.

_Goddammit._

Trying to kick the door just made pain ripple up his leg, consolidating at the small of his back so he quickly stopped. Last thing he needed was to damage his messed up spine any further so he angrily sat back down.

Also he was still pissed after releasing Diego, only for him to lock Johnny out of his Vault shortly after. Johnny wasn't one big on social niceties, especially since social structure was basically dead, but was still angry over the beast for essentially slamming the door in his face. _Should've purged him,_ he thought nastily, jaw clenched.

Then the muscles of his left shin seized, jolting up into a rock sized lump and he was yanked violently from his dark brooding. With a stifled groan he grabbed at the knot of muscles, digging his fingers into it as he tried to massage the hard lump free.

"Are- are you okay?" The girl asked in a hesitant voice.

"No," Johnny ground out. The pain made him shudder; regardless of how often it happened it fucking hurt.

She made an aborted movement before curling back into her corner while Johnny cursed and rubbed at the seized muscle. By the time he'd managed to smooth out the knot sweat was beading his forehead to which he irritably wiped away before leaning back against the bars. Outside he could hear the low drone of the slavers speaking to one another before the cage jolted as the wagon moved forward. Johnny grimaced at the motion, breath quick and nearly panicked. He didn't know what to do. He was defenseless and had a bomb wrapped securely around his neck.

To fend off his rising hysteria he looked over at the girl, who was trembling from where she was tucked up in the corner with her thin legs pulled against her chest. Her eyes were wide and staring at nothing. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly, grimacing as the metal dug into his Adam's apple but it caught the girl's attention as he said lowly, "I'm Johnny."

"I'm Lucy," she whispered back.

"Where are they taking us?"

"To Disney," she said, "They'll have a stop at one of the safe houses on the way though and will spend the night there- we'll be at Disney in around three days and we'll get evaluated. Settlers get stolen often," Lucy finished in a whisper.

"...Disney? You mean Disneyland? Or world, whatever, I can never get that shit straight. But the amusement park."

"You know that place?"

"Yeah, went there a couple of times as a kid with my brother."

Lucy looked disturbed, twisting the fabric of her hat violently in her hands. It made Johnny wonder what the hell slavers were even doing at Disneyland or why they'd set up a base there. He was fairly sure it was further up north, towards the east however since he had been going south for some time.

"Did they catch you too?" Johnny asked. It was stupid, how starved for conversation he'd be to the point he was bothering an enslaved ten year old. But he'd been a month since he'd had a genuine conversation with someone.

"...No. My father owed a great deal of debt to someone. The slavers were sent to collect payment," Lucy said hoarsely, even as tears started to drip down her face, "He had a choice between me and my older brother to pay off the debt. He paid using me."

"Join the club of 'Shitty fathers', we've got jackets," Johnny grumbled. Despite his flippancy he felt fairly taken aback Lucy's father had flat out _sold_ her. At least his father had just been a run-of-the-mill asshole.

"He's- he isn't a bad father," Lucy said, though it seemed to be more to try and convince herself, "They would've burned the farm, killed all of my family. I have younger siblings- my father had not choice. I wasn't...." She trailed off, before scrubbing at her face with her hat even as ugly sob escaped her body.

"You're what, ten?"

"I'm fourteen." She said wetly.

_Okay, fourteen. But what the fuck._

"Your father _sold_ his fourteen year old daughter into slavery. He's an asshole." Johnny's laugh had more than a slight shade of hysteria in it. He couldn't believe it. He was going to be sold as a slave at Disneyland alongside a country bumpkin. Lucy flinched at his scornful laughter, sniffling wetly.

"Ugh, well here's hoping Lincoln shows up and kills them all," Johnny grumbled, leaning back against the cold iron bars and rubbing at his upper arms.

Lucy shifted, smoothing down her skirts as she tried to regain her composure. She wiped her face with her hat again, eyes heavily bloodshot, before saying, "Is Lincoln a friend you're traveling with? Or a guard?"

"What? No, I mean Abraham Lincoln." He waited but Lucy's expression remained confused so he pressed, "You know, a president of the United States? Outlawed slavery which caused the American civil war?"

She continued to stare at him confused until he glared, to which she averted her gaze. Great, so basic schooling clearly wasn't a thing that survived the bombs.

"You're...You're a Vault dweller, aren't you? I thought only Vault eighty one was active in the Commonwealth."

"I know nothing about that shit, you're the first bunch of people I've seen since getting out. I thought everyone was dead." Johnny said.

"Oh."

"What's this Vault eighty one anyway?" Johnny asked, "Those assholes outside mentioned it as well."

"Um, we only heard about it from the traders who'd visit the farm after harvest," Lucy said, "The dwellers inside do trading and the like but they've only started very recently. It's the only active Vault in the Commonwealth as far as everyone knows. Um, besides your one."

 _Active..._ He had a feeling that meant 'not full of monsters or lunatics'. He had a vague idea that Vault-Tec had hundreds of Vaults scattered across America and after his incident in his own Vault and then Diego's, he had a creeping idea that the Vaults were never intended to preserve people though the nuclear apocalypse and instead use them as guinea pigs.

"My Vault was a hundred and eleven," Johnny said as he plucked at the blue fabric of the jumpsuit tied around his waist.

"Is...Is it open?"

"No, everyone else was dead when I woke up."

Lucy's face fell even further and Johnny thought she'd start bawling again. Instead she swallowed thickly, eyes tinted red, before asking, "How did you make it down here? I was never allowed too far from the farm because it was dangerous."

"I walked? I was actually inside the Vault built in the hill before those fuckers caught me."

"Your Vault was back there?"

"No, it was another one. Vault twenty four. Only one survivor in there as well. He locked me out as soon as I was outside," Johnny finished bitterly.

"Oh. I didn't know there were so many Vaults here," Lucy said, "I never really left home."

"Yeah well, you're not missing much. What with the shitty humans and crap weather and garbage animals."

Lucy nodded before she started crying again. This time she stuffed her cap against her mouth, hunched up while turning her face away as if trying to save Johnny the embarrassment of seeing her cry. He shifted awkwardly but couldn't bring himself to say or do anything. He couldn't comfort himself on a good day, much less a frightened teenage girl. Damn, he wished he could chew on some Buffout.

The wagon continued its trek, Johnny eventually turning off his Pip-Boy light but every so often checking the mini map. He'd been correct in that the slavers were taking them north east but other than that he had no idea where they would be stopping. Either way minutes passed into hours with him brooding over countless violent escape attempts but everything resulted in him dying if he actually thought about it logically. He just didn't have enough power on his own and weaponless to kill three slavers, especially with one clad in Power armour. Unless he suddenly grew ten times stronger and could punch all their heads off he couldn't really do anything. The crying girl also wasn't a viable ally even if she was now just shivering against the cage bars.

He could try prodding her and see if she was willingly, but there was a haunting emptiness in her eyes that made him wary. Then again being sold by ones own parent would probably mess someone up. Johnny had just been disowned and ignored and that'd fucked him up enough he wasn't about to rant at someone elses coping mechanism. Didn't stop him from feeling pissed off however. All his weapons had been taken and Johnny wasn't confident in fisticuffs. Even running wasn't a good option considering the bomb collar. _Fuck._

Occasionally the monotony was broken by gunshots and barking as the slavers fought off some unknown threat. Despite his heart leaping nothing ever attacked the cage and neither did any of the slavers get killed. A faint hope but one he had nonetheless. Lucy would start twitching, making distressed noises when the gunfire started by otherwise kept silent.

They finally made it to the safe house after hours of boring travel, which Johnny only realized when Monday pulled up the tarp covering the cage enough she could access the door and poke some food in for them between the bars. They were allowed one of the lumpy mutated tomatoes to eat- _My tomatoes,_ Johnny thought angrily -and a bottle of dirty water to share between them. Johnny could only managed a mouthful of the dirty brown liquid before giving the rest to Lucy with a gag. After that the bottle was taken away and the tarp thrown back over.

He peeked around covertly at the safe house through the countless holes in the fabric for any clues to his whereabouts, but all there was was a rough shack and a rusted steel fence surrounding it and a rickety steel fence that groaned on its bent hinges. The wagon was set against the side of the fence while the mutated cow was unhitched, wandering to the old bathtub filled with water propped against the shack. The three slavers were talking and laughing with each other before they went inside the shack, the furless dog wandering over and sitting down in front of the gate with a huff.

After making sure all three of the slavers were inside he started prying at the padlock of the cage but gave up fairly soon. He knew nothing about picking a lock and had a feeling his blunt fingernails weren't going to cut it. He also lacked the brute strength to just yank the padlock right off. He gave up with a small noise of disgust, ignoring Lucy's staring, before settling down with his body shivering in barely suppressed rage. Johnny couldn't see any way out of the cage and still cursed his complete lack of awareness after leaving Vault 24. None of it would've happened if he'd just been paying attention to his surroundings. 

_Maybe someone will kill them or I can escape later,_ Johnny thought grimly. It was moreso at an attempt at comforting himself but as usual it didn't work. He had nothing else to do except wait and hope for a chance somewhere down the line.

* * *

A soft tapping woke Johnny up and he jolted into awareness with a snort. He was lying on his back, legs twisted up awkwardly against the bars. Through the holes of the tarp he could see the dark sky sprinkled with stars high above. At the end of the cage Lucy was asleep sitting up, a small clenched fist pressed against her face and thin body shivering from the cold night air. The tapping sounded again, close to him as if someone was rapping a stick gently against the steel bars of the cage.

With a soft grunt Johnny shifted up onto his backside, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm before turning to look in the direction of the irritating repetitiousness noise.

Only to find his face an inch away from where Diego had shoved his scaled muzzle partially through the cage bars.

* * *


	14. A blast for you and blasphemy

* * *

Johnny didn't scream but it was a near thing.

Instead his breath knotted in his throat, a strained wheezing noise escaping him before Johnny quickly clapped his hand over his mouth. After a moment to regain his composure Johnny lowered his shaking hand, trying to shove back how utterly relieved he was to see Diego again.

"Where the fuck did you go?!" Johnny hissed instead. 

Diego pulled his snout out from the bars, tilting his head to the side. He raised his hands in a series of weaving moments but as before Johnny couldn't understand him. Rolling his eyes, Diego instead reached up and slid the tips of two claws into the padlock holding the cage shut, shifting them back and forth in an impromptu lockpick.

"Wait wait, even if you let me out I still have this collar on," Johnny surged forward, grabbing onto one of the Diego's scaled wrists through the bars on reflex. The texture was so alien he immediately let him go, swallowing past the lump in his throat before continuing, "This collar is explosive, it'll detonate if I get too far away from whatever slaver has the key."

Pulling away his claws Diego scowled at the explosive before shaking his horned head. Johnny chose to interpret it as Diego not knowing how to unfuse an explosive collar. Gripping onto the cold steel bar with sweaty fingers Johnny said, "Maybe...Maybe they have it in the hut? They're asleep in there. One has a minigun and Power armour."

Making another series of fluttering gestures Diego looked expectantly at Johnny again to which he just stared back in silence. With a grunt of disgust at Johnny's confused expression Diego backed off a few feet, sniffing at the air before he held up a hand, four fingers up. Then he pointed at the shack, making a circling gesture.

Johnny struggled to understand what he was miming with basic movements, squinting through the dark at him before saying slowly, "There's three slavers, the dog and that cow thing. Wait, where's the dog? It was sitting out front."

With a grunt Diego made a running motion with his fingers and Johnny guessed that he meant the dog ran off, either from running into Diego or something. Then he raised four scaled fingers again.

"No, there's three." Johnny corrected lowly, unable to stop a paranoid look at the shack.

Diego just shook his head, stepping backwards before sniffing again with deep inhales like a bloodhound. Then Johnny realized there was a dark blue fabric with gold accents tried around his scaly body as Diego had a Vault 24 jumpsuit stretched across his chest; the arms were tied at the nape of his neck with the legs tied at the small of his back, the blue fabric covering his smooth yellowed belly scales. Two satchels were resting against his hips, the leather straps tied around the spikes.

 _Wait, did he kick me out of the Vault so he could put that on?_ Johnny thought incredulously. He wondered if it was a petty retaliation for him asking that Diego leave the room when he woke up in the Vault.

Ignoring him Diego crouched onto all fours, creeping across the ground like a crocodile. Johnny watched with fascination as his blue scales rippled, shifting until Diego's form seemed to blend into his surroundings like a chameleon, until it looked like a weirdly shaped rock was making its way across the dim campsite.

Leaving Diego to whatever it was he was doing, Johnny reached over and shook Lucy's arm; the skin was cold and goosebumped under his hand and it took some fairly vigorous shaking to rouse her. When she did wake up it was with a strangled gasp, shooting upright and nearly colliding with Johnny who jerked backwards and fell on his backside with a grunt.

The cage was too small for him to stand upright, even as short as he was so he had to shuffle back onto his haunches awkwardly as Lucy sat up in stiff movements. 

She relaxed somewhat when she realized where she was and blinked up at Johnny with wide blue eyes, "Are we moving on? It's still dark."

"No, we've have...Uh...Help, I guess," Johnny said. He wasn't exactly sure what Diego classified as. Johnny had to admit Diego had returned so that was something.

"Help? Who?"

"The guy who locked me out of his Vault twenty four, he came back" Johnny told her, "He's sneaking about to find the key to the collars or whatever it is. Or maybe he'll just eat the slavers, I'm not sure."

Lucy straightened her back, eyes brightening for the first time, "He's going to help us?"

"Yeah, I didn't even know he was following us until he woke me up," Johnny said lowly, "He was going to pick open the lock but we need to get these collars off first."

She nodded, thin fingers brushing against the metal at her throat, "Hopefully they have a key which will deactivate them. I don't know anything about explosives."

"Yeah well, me neither. So-"

The door to the shack suddenly banged open, the three slavers arguing as they walked into the small dusty yard. Despite the sky barely lighting towards dawn they were clad in their traveling outfit and weapons all at the ready.

"I told you, I heard something," Marlo said, an angry note in his voice as he slammed the rickety door behind him. 

"Well there were no barking from Linda and- hey, where the hell is she?" Monday stopped in her tracks, glaring around the camp.

"I told you that thing wasn't trained," the one in Power armour said, voice glitching at the end of their sentence. All three looked jumpy, suspicious.

Monday scowled, her features shadowed from the dying moonlight as she stalked to the wagon. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the tarp at the back of the cage had been hoisted up, grabbing at the ratty fabric and glaring at the two inside, "What are you doing, huh?"

"Admiring the scenery," Johnny snapped, glaring at her.

She punched the cage door, grinning as he flinched away from her on reflex. After a moment she turned back to the other three slavers, conversing in low tones about how long it would take to reach Disney. Johnny shifted onto his shins, shivering slightly as a faint breeze swept over his him. The slavers gathered the gear they'd taken into the shack, stacking the backs back up in the wagon. Johnny glared at any of them which came close, wanting Diego to do something already. The buzz of anticipation was making him jittery but at the least the slavers weren't noticing his mood. Lucy kept to her end of the cage, legs drawn up against her chest with her fingers scratching at the pale shin of her shins.

Just as the slavers grabbed at the mutant cow to hitch it to the wagon, a Molotov went flying overhead and smashed against the shed roof. Flames quickly lit up the rotted boards and tin, bright and vibrant against the barely dawn sky. The slavers shouted in shock, quickly moving into a rough triangle with their weapons ready; Johnny pressed his face against the bars, taking note how Monday had a plasma pistol, Marlo had a shotgun and Mac with the ever present minigun.

"Where the fuck are you hiding? Show yourself, you shitty coward," Monday shouted, then promptly dodged another Molotov which went arcing over the fence and nearly hit her in the face.

It splattered against the wall, flames bursting up at the fence. The heat was a wave of warmth against his skin, Johnny grimacing at how close the flames were. The slavers started yelling at each other, ordering one another to go and deal with whoever was throwing the bombs which seemed to just dissolve into threats and curses.

_Wait, Diego said four didn't he? Then-_

Then almost simultaneously they all noticed the tall, broad shouldered woman standing in the now open gateway of the camp.

It was a nun.

For a brief mad moment Johnny thought he was hallucinating but after blinking rapidly he realized that it was, in fact, a nun. She was clad in a rich black habit with the white lined coif and collar. A golden cross rested against her breast bone and a belt of golden beads was wrapped around her waist. She was also wearing a pair of mirrored sunglasses that obscured her features but what drew the slavers attention was the .45 Auto pistols held loosely at her sides.

"You sell the flesh of other human beings," The woman said. Her voice was strong and deep, even as her plump magenta lips twisted into a cold line, "So let's skip the chitchat and get the point; I will kill you all."

"You crazy bitch," Marlo said.

"Be that as it may, either way you all die this day."

Then Diego suddenly burst through the wooden rear wall of the fence like a bull, sending bits of wood and metal flying in all directions and leaping right at the nearest slaver, the one clad in Power armour while their companions shrieked in alarm.

The nun was just as shocked by his abrupt appearance- Johnny could tell by the way she veered between two targets with her pistols, Diego or the slavers -before she went after Marlo. A bullet blew out his kneecap and he went down with loud cursing and blood splatter.

Diego meanwhile had slammed the Power armour wearing slaver onto his back before seizing the minigun in clawed hands. He smashed it repeatedly against earth until the barrel was bent, useless, and then reared back. Like a bull he slammed his horns hard enough into the slaver's chest plate the metal crushed inward with a horrid snapping noise as the man's ribs broke from the pressure. With the most dangerous slaver incapacitated Diego leapt off him to go running after Monday on all fours. 

The woman barely had time to fire off a shot from her plasma pistol before Diego pounced on her, knocking her onto the ground much like he did with Mac. This time however Diego got his sharp teeth around her head and started mauling her with fangs and claws, shaking her violently back and forth like how a terrier would kill rats.

Meanwhile the nun had closed distance with Marlo, shooting him in the wrist with a blast that took most of his hand off. Nonetheless he attempted to shoot her point blank with his shotgun but she ducked in a lightning fast movement before smoothly pressing her pistol against his temple and blowing his brains out in a messy spray.

Then the shack, which had been steadily burning down, abruptly exploded.

The nun hunkered down, covering her face with her arms as debris flew past. Johnny and Lucy ducked down further in the cell and a blown up piece of steel smashed into the bars with a horrid noise.

Johnny could hear Lucy sobbing hysterically next to him and was distantly aware of a gash spilling blood down his cheekbone. Instead he watched as Diego straightened up, mouth stained with gore, before he started to rifle through Monday's pockets as her blood oozed across the dusty ground.

Ignoring Diego the nun approached the slaver in Power armour, stooping down to dislodge the rusted helmet. The man's face was bloodied and wan, gurgling coughs occasionally bubbling from his throat. The nun just stared down at him, her eyebrows drawn down sharply.

"Any last words?" She said after a bout of staring.

"Go to hell," Mac snarled, breath wheezing through cracked lips.

"Find peace in the embrace of our Lord," the woman said in response, voice still flat and emotionless, before she emptied the entire clip into his head.

After rifling through the bloodied remains of Monday with nimble claws, Diego approached the cage with a key. Quickly the door was unlocked and Johnny nearly fell out of the cage in his haste to get out. As it was he nearly did faceplant but a clawed hand hefting him up by the abdomen stopped it.

"Where the fuck did you go?" Johnny demanded, angry and sore. Diego just scoffed, shoving him back to his feet before moving away.

The nun ignored the three of them to bend down, rummaging through the pouches on the rusted Power armour. In the cage Lucy hesitantly scuttled to the now open door, moving with far more careful movements. She looked timid, as if she couldn't believe her luck. Almost like a flighty deer on the verge of bolting.

Johnny meanwhile was looking at the burning shack in dismay, "Great, this is lighting up everything especially with it still dark. I bet some monster is going to show up soon." It was better to complain about that then focus on the bloodied, horribly mangled dead bodies a few feet away. The smell of all the gore was at least hidden underneath the burning smoke but he still quickly looked away from Diego's bloody muzzle.

Though Lucy was frightened she nonetheless approached them with tentative movements while clearing her throat awkwardly. Diego turned, teeth bared but Johnny didn't really care about it. He quite welcomed conversation honestly, even if he still felt twitchy. Johnny wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Maybe both. Lucy however spoke before he could pick.

"Um, thank you for rescuing me," she stammered, hands twisting into the fabric of her tattered dress.

Diego walked over to her, his heavy scaled body moving with eerie fluidness across the bloodied earth until he stopped right in front of her. Her hands clenched tighter into her dress, sweat rolling down her face as she struggled to keep her calm in the face of his monstrous appearance.

Lucy tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace in her wan features. It was only when Diego shifted back slightly, his clawed hands flexing open did Johnny realize Diego actually intended to kill her.

"Diego what the fuck?!" He lunged forward, grabbing onto Diego's horn and yanking on it hard. He snarled violently, shaking his head and nearly knocking Johnny over even as one hand slapped hard onto Lucy's face, palm covering her entire face as his claws fingers encircled her skull. Johnny grabbed Diego's other horn, half draped over Diego's neck as he yelled at hi.

The nun suddenly appeared, seizing Lucy by the back of her dress and ripping her out of Diego's grasp. The girl hit the ground a few feet away, rolling in the dirt with a cry of pain. The nun pulled up her pistols, looking like she was about to shoot Diego point blank in the skull. Half jumping onto Diego's head Johnny yanked with all his might, succeeding in pulling Diego's head harshly to the side even as pain ripped up his back.

Diego twisted around, grabbing Johnny's leg and yanking him off. Johnny gave a grunt as he fell heavily on his shoulders, the pain rolling down to consolidate in his spine. Ignoring it and the dragging in his left leg, Johnny forced himself back up to see Diego seize the nun around the throat while bellowing in her face. She didn't even flinch, smashing the butt of one of her pistols into his head just below his eye. Johnny lunged from him even as Lucy began screaming.

Johnny latched onto Diego's right arm, even as a clawed hand grabbed the nun's forearm to most likely tear it off. Punching at Diego's jaw he shouted, "Put her down!"

For a moment it looked like Diego was going to completely ignore Johnny but then his scaled frame froze, his scales raising in a weird movement like a cats hackles. The nun went still in her efforts, even though she was in the process of being choked. One of the lenses in her sunglasses had popped free in the struggle, showing a dark magenta eye filled with unnerving intensity. Despite the severity behind her stare she nonetheless pointed her pistols away from Diego's face even as he snarled at her. Johnny punched him in the jaw again, though all it succeeded at doing was make his hand sting.

"For fuck's sake, let her go!"

Diego's right eye rolled around in its socket to stare at him and Johnny felt unnerved at his completely human eye in such a completely inhumane face. Then with a deep, irritated huff, Diego let go of the nun. She stumbled back, lips twisting into an tight line but still kept her pistols pointing downwards.

Then she tucked her pistols into her robes and in the same movement pulled out another pair of sunglasses. Replacing the broken ones her eye was quickly covered again. Johnny wondered how many spare pairs she had hidden inside her robes. Then Diego shoved him away and he nearly fell, hunching awkwardly as his spine twanged painfully.

"Screw you," Johnny said sullenly. Diego just snapped his bloodied teeth at him. _What is his problem?_

Smoothing down her habit the woman looked fairly unbothered about being mauled by a giant lizard. Instead she walked over to Lucy, bending down next to the crying girl and injecting a stimpack into her thin arm. Johnny figured he probably should ransack the slaver's supplies to see if they had any but something hot and wet suddenly slathered across side of his face, across the scratch along his cheekbone.

Johnny shoved Diego's scaly face away, "Don't lick me you freak!"

In response he just let out a _Huff huff huff_ of laughter as he opened his bloodstained jaws in a toothy grin. Then his features sharpened as the nun, having tended to Lucy, rose and approached them in calm strides.

"My name is Hot Pants," the nun said seriously, in lieu of a greeting.

It was the fakest name Johnny had ever heard- and he'd heard many, due to being a jockey -but decided to nod along. The woman looked like she could knock him out with a single punch.

"Right, uh, my name is Johnny. This is Diego," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, nearly poking Diego in the snout from how close he was.

"If you please, I am able to deactivate the collar around your throat," she said. Lucy perked up from where she was sitting, shakily getting to her feet as her body trembled. 

"...How sure are you?" Johnny asked, wary of letting someone fumble with the collar as much as he wanted it off.

"I have and will hunt many slavers. I am adept at freeing their victims. Lucy, if I have your permission," she turned to the small blonde girl, expression still stern.

Lucy looked hesitant but obviously her desire to get out of the collar overwhelming her cautious so she stepped closer. Hot Pants then proceeded to pry into the collar, slipping some delicate tools from her habit to peel into the innards of the collar. Within several seconds the blinking red light died and with a _click_ the collar snapped open, Hot Pants carefully pulling it away from Lucy's thin neck. The skin underneath was an ugly raw red.

Hot Pants then turned to Johnny, her expression never changing. After a moment of differing Johnny sighed and stepped forward, tilting his chin up. Reaching forward she started to deactivate the collar. Diego stalked closer to the nun, bloodied jaws opening slightly. Lucy sidled away, wide eyes fixed on him as she started twisting the fabric of her dress in a panicked gesture. Diego ignored her completely, his glare focused on Hot Pants who resolutely ignored him as she deactivated Johnny's bomb collar.

With she succeeded and the metal slid free, Johnny backed away while rubbing at his throat. The skin stung painfully but he would take it a hundred times over that horrid collar. Even as he watched Hot Pants threw the two collars into the fire consuming the shacks. After a short pause they exploded in the flames, shaking the ground slightly. That thing certainly would have taken Johnny's head off, along with most of his torso as well.

Diego swung his head around to look at the flames, nostrils flaring before he turned back to Johnny and shrugged. 

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Johnny said to the nun, "Thanks for that. I guess." He couldn't really bring himself to call a nun 'Hot Pants' to her face even if she offered the name.

"Yes." Was the only response the woman gave. Lucy hovered at the back, keeping the nun between herself and Diego.

"So...you know Lucy?" Johnny asked after a fairly awkward silence as the flames crackled to the side.

"I was aware of her plight, and was following the slavers for some time. I saw them apprehend you and then shortly afterwards your Deathclaw."

 _Deathclaw._ Right, he'd read that word being used to describe the experiments in Vault 24 but the way she said it was strange, as he was fairly sure she'd never been in the Vault so he asked, "A Deathclaw? You know Diego?"

The nun stared at him for a moment before saying, "No, Deathclaws are large scaled creatures that look very much like _him._ They live across the wastes and are found here in the Commonwealth as well. They are not intelligent as he is, however."

Johnny looked at Diego, uneasy and unsure. If what the nun said was true it meant there was giant mutated monsters like Diego running around. Seemed to be luck that he hadn't run into one yet. 

"It also seems you are a Vault dweller," the nun continued, "Have you been on the surface long?"

"Around a month. The first p- the first humans I'd run into was those slavers and you two."

"Unfortunate," she frowned, "However if you want to know there are still people are still living within the Commonwealth and across the remains of America. The largest settlement is Diamond City. However for someone of your...stripe, I would recommend visiting Goodneighbour first. They will be more accepting. It is also a place where you may hire mercenaries easily as the city is very dangerous and where you can get supplies. Across the Commonwealth with be other smaller settlements and towns but considering you have a Pip-Boy I can give you the coordinates for those two cities."

"Then why'd they make their damn city there then if its so dangerous?" Johnny asked irritably. Diego snorted.

She didn't raise to the bait, "Either way I am going to escort Lucy to safety. Shall we travel together?"

Diego's growl made it obvious what he thought and quite frankly Johnny was wary of the weird warrior nun so he shook his head mutely. Being around people after a month of solitude was strange and he was getting rapidly frazzled as the conversation continued. He didn't trust the nun and her intentions despite the rescue. He didn't trust religious folk even before the world fell into nuclear war and she'd killed all those people effortlessly. The fact Diego had tried killing them both didn't exactly help either.

Hot Pants nodded back at him before turning to Lucy, "I can take you to a nearby traders settlement, they will take care of you," and then said to Johnny, "You can help yourself to whatever supplies are left here, if you intend to travel to the city. Be cautious."

"...Right." Johnny said, giving Diego a confused look. He just continued staring at the nun unblinkingly, muzzle wrinkled slightly as if on the verge of snarling.

"However If you wish to meet friends and those who stand with the righteous and freedom granted to us, then seek the red brick road." Hot Pants told them. With those last words she turned on her heel and left, Lucy following at her heels after giving Johnny a whispered goodbye.

He watched the two women leave with a certain level of regret but with another feeling that it wouldn't be the last time he'd see them. Shaking that off Johnny skirted around one of the lifeless bodies on the ground, searching the wagon for his things. He found his backpack which had most of his things still in it but took all the purified water bottles along with a tattered sleeping roll. He also found his pistol much to his relief, strapping the holster back onto his thigh. Diego also clawed around in the items, stuffing some weird meat into the dark green pouches hanging from his hips before yanking off a cloth shirt and using it to clean his bloodied face and claws.

For the weapons it looked as if the fire had destroyed the shotgun and Monday's plasma pistol was broken. Johnny took it anyway, figuring if he came to a town maybe he could sell it. He did inwardly curse over not interrogating Lucy more while they were in the cage but she was only a bit less sheltered than he was. And the nun was just...strange.

_Fuck the bombs._

Diego's clawed hand crept into his vision, distracting him from his thoughts; it was a stimpack, no doubt looted from one of the dead slavers. He grimaced at the blood on the plunger but nonetheless injected the syringe into his arm, feeling the bleeding cut on his face heal up and some of his bruising fade. He wished for several more though as he'd be black and blue for a few days. Now he just wanted to get out of the place, especially since Marlo's dead body had caught fire and the smell of burning meat was making bile in his throat. 

Across from them, the mutated cow mooed lowly, looking very unconcerned what had happened and the fire burning a few feet away. The sky meanwhile was shifting to pinks as dawn finally broke across the land.

Johnny checked his Pip-Boy, switching over until he was at the map. He scrolled down until finding the two towns added in, noting they were at the very least close to one another. Hefting his bag up onto his back he looked up at Diego and said, "Let's head to Goodneighbour then."

* * *


	15. Backstory

* * *

"Let me tell you something about myself. Me, Johnny. Last name Joestar. I was born and raised in Danville Kentucky. The Joestar family used to be aristocrats before they fell into ruin but my father was wealthy. He was the owner of several farms and we all know how expensive food became as the war with China dragged on so he got pretty rich off that. And he was once the three time winner of the Triple Crown, a top notch horse race. Because of my father's work we were in England for some time. England is..." Johnny scrunched up his face, "It's a county in the British Isles, up way north across the sea and is-"

A nudge by Diego's scaled arm and careful scratching in the dirt.

I know where and what England is. 

"Right, right...Well anyway, I remember when I was like eight or nine I had this little pet mouse, a white one. Called 'Danny' like God, what a ridiculous name for a mouse? But whatever, was my first pet and pretty tame. I got caught feeding him once during a family dinner and my father lost his shit. Started yelling at me to drown it, never mind the bastard told me I could keep him the night before. Mother just sat there with a stupid, sad look on her face while he yelled at me and did nothing. Anyway I had a brother, five years my elder, named Nicolas. He was the one who came out and asked me if I was alright. I was going to drown that stupid mouse but couldn't, I mean how messed up is it to tell a kid to kill his pet? But whatever, Nicolas said he'd just grab one of those taxidermy mice from his science class and the teacher wouldn't mind- he was honour roll, all that stuff so they loved him. Anyway, I agreed 'cause it was my big brother and he would always look after me, you know?"

Diego didn't write anything, simply leaning his upper body down lower so he was watching Johnny more closely. His eyes were still eerily human within his thickly scaled face, blue iris and round pupils. Johnny stared at him for a long moment, a strange emotion in his gut before he carried on with his story.

"I let Danny go. He ran off into the woods and I thought that was great, he gets to live and Nicolas knew best. He'd always said he'd teach me how to ride horses when I got older and I'd watch him train down at the horse tracks my father owned. But the next time we went down there he died."

It was a fairly cold, detached end to the sentence but he still felt the hot prickle of tears. _Even after all these fucking years._

"Oh it was an accident, everyone said. The horse Nicolas was riding then was still fairly wild, skittish. And during a gallop he fell off, got trampled to death right in front of me. Least it was quick, I suppose." Clinical even as the tears finally spilled from his eyes and made hot trails down his cheeks. He ignored them, hugging his knees closer to his chest.

"I think the most horrible thing though was the noise. Like. It was this horrid crunching noise. I had nightmares about that for months afterwards."

The side of a long scaled tail pressed against Johnny's lower back, scales warm through the fabric of his shirt. It was the closest approximation of physical comfort Diego would offer him but nonetheless Johnny continued to let the words pour out.

"Anyway he died and everything just got fucked up. At least one positive thing happened over that, dad stopped bitching me out over 'pretending' to be a boy; he just jumped at the chance to get a replacement son. Too bad I was never good enough. 'First place Kentucky derby', 'Raising star' 'Debuts', 'Genius jockey' whatever, no matter what I did I was never good enough. One of the main reasons I got into racing was as a way to be closer to Nicolas, since he always said he'd teach me and he loved it so much. And I started to love it too, I was _good_ at it damnit. But didn't matter to my father, I would always be second best. Christ, I remember years later I had a tournament but the sole of my riding boot had split. I was going to borrow Nicolas's boots- I knew he wouldn't mind, and his room was basically a tomb in the middle of our house. Just everything left as it was, beyond the maids routinely dusting everything. Anyway I went to get the boots and dad caught me. Got all mad and demanded I leave the boots. I was just...I don't know, I refused because for fuck's sake like Nicolas would actually care I was borrowing his boots? He wouldn't but dad never actually gave a crap about his kids being actual people. So he started shouting, comparing me to Nicolas and how I'll never be that good and I don't know, we started yanking on the boots and I shoved him away from me. He hit the wardrobe and broke the mirror. Was just lying there on the floor when he told me I should've been the one to die."

Diego's breath was deep and steady next to him, his tail shifting more so the end was curling around Johnny's drawn up legs. A hot huff of breath ruffled his fringe, drying some of the tear tracks on his cheeks. Johnny wiped at his face, scrubbing roughly with his wrist band until his eyelids burned.

"'God took the wrong son.' He said that right to my fucking face. Didn't even care. Just started sobbing on the floor and then told me I wasn't welcome anymore. My mother did nothing. Another I hated. Over the years when he'd bitch me out she'd say nothing. Just sit there with a stupid vapid look on her face. Some mother she was. I hate them....I fucking hate them. I'm glad they died with the fucking nukes." His words were bitter even if his voice broke at the end of the sentence. Diego's tail tip flicked against his legs.

"'God made a mistake.' Guess he did. That white mouse, Danny, spooked the horse that day which killed Nicolas. It wasn't supposed to be my brother, it should have been me. I should have been the one to die. But whatever I left after he said that and never really saw him again for years. Just focused on my racing along with fucking myself up. When on horseback I got everything I wanted. Everyone flattered me from below and got me riches. Didn't matter I was cut off, I was wealthy enough on my own I got whatever I wanted. They called me 'Jojo' or 'Joekid' even as politicians and royalty from around the world came to see the races. Pre-War they were huge, billion dollar industries and corrupt as hell. The time I won the Kentucky derby when I was sixteen was the greatest. One time I went to a millionaires house, the guy's daughter and her friend started taking their clothes off without me saying anything. 'My parents aren't going to be home tonight' is what they said to me. What would you do? It really was the best. Everyone called me rookie. And when I felt like it I could race my horse faster than anyone else. To win on horseback was a symbol of victory and power in the history of human kind, that's what I thought." Johnny frowned, watching as the flames flickered restlessly in the pit. A mild wind had picked up, chilly but not freezing. When he looked up the sky was clear; he could never recall seeing so many stars before the war.

"Then...Christ, what even was it? I dunno, was going to see some stupid play with some stupid girl I can't remember. Whatever, I decided to just go right to the head of the line and the guy at the front started telling me he was first. I didn't care, paid some guys to drag him off because I was rich. Then he came back, just ran right up to me and I told him to piss off. I didn't even realize he'd shot me right in the back until I smell the gunpower and then felt the blood on my hands. Then everyone was screaming and I just straight up keeled over. Didn't wake up for...fuck, I dunno."

"And everyone would abandon me in the end. No one would even be concerned for me. Everyone would leave. They wouldn't even look back. Well I really ate those words, that nuclear war kinda made that a complete shitty reality. Thought I was _completely_ alone when I woke up. I couldn't find any other humans- just fucked up animals and skeletons from people who'd died ages ago."

Diego stared at him, long enough the tears dried on Johnny's face and his breathing evened out, before reaching out with a sharp talon and flicking it through the dirt.

I felt like that in a way. Saw my mother die in the cell, saw myself turn into this. Saw Ferdinand turn into a mindless animal.  He talked to me at first but when his experiment was a success it was as if his brain stopped functioning.  Just started hissing and speaking gibberish. I knew nothing of the world outside the Vault beyond what my computer told me and it was all Pre-War information. Alone.

"Yeah, here I am whining about how shit my life is and you got stuck in a cage for over a decade with a nutcase zombie." Johnny scowled at the fire flicking in the small pit Diego had clawed out earlier with his claws; they would need to put more wood on it in a minute or so. At least with the nukes going off there were a lot of dead trees around to use for fire.

It was the second night after the incident with the slavers, the two sitting around the fire they'd lit at an old park they'd come across. After checking his map on his Pip-Boy, Johnny decided it would be easiest to head east before going north; that way they could follow the railway line that ran into central Boston rather than running around trying to find a bridge when they reached the river. As it was, they'd found a few old buildings while traveling most noticeably the multistory building with a rusted ARCJET SYSTEMS sign stamped across the front. The car park was filled with the skeletal remains of vehicles, including one which still had an active mine underneath it. A poke indoors revealed only the lobby and main corridor accessible; the rest of the hallway had caved in and barred off the rest of the building. There wasn't anything of note so they'd continued on before stopping at an old farm house along the road.

When they'd broken into the house- Diego smashing down the rotten front door -Johnny had scrubbed down a dusty mirror in the bathroom to peer at his reflection, noting with distaste he had a black eye and blood crusted around his lips and nostrils. He ended up spending some time soaking a rag in some bottled water before cleaning his face, wincing as the cloth brushed against his bruised eye. Pulling up his shirt also showed the thick spread of bruises across his side and ribcage, remnants of Ferdinand throwing him around the hallway in their fight. The stimpack used back after the impromptu rescue from the slavers had healed his open injuries and scrapes but wasn't enough to banish all the bruises lying beneath his skin. He wished for another stimpack but had to make do naturally for now. Searching the house didn't reveal anything of interest as most of it was fire damaged and the two continued until they found themselves at the Rocky Narrows Park. 

Johnny remembered going there a few times back before the War where it had been surrounded by trees and lush grass, shiny caravans of holiday makers and two small cabins. Now everything was brown and rusted with a long dead fire pit and bent chairs and broken playground. A caravan had still been standing but the cabins had largely been destroyed, wooden frames still upright. Inside the caravan had been a skeleton and a suitcase filled with junk Johnny had no use for but Diego ended up taking a loose piece of technology for some reason.

In one of the cabins there had been an extremely creepy cymbal-banging monkey toy sitting on top of a cabient. It had activated when Johnny walked past it, eyes glowing in such a way he jumped backwards before it started clapping its cymbal's together with a sharp _ding ding ding_ noise. Diego smacked it with a claw, ripping it in half, before they checked the last cabin on the small hill.

That one had another skeleton, sprawled halfway out the destroyed back with rotten furniture scattered through the remains of the room. He did find a bottle of purified water in the old medkit attached to the wall which he eagerly drank down, before being distracted by Diego's snarling. He poked a head out around the wall only to see one of the mutated red-skinned bears charging towards them.

Johnny yanked out his pistol from its thigh holster, and despite his panic noted the bear was a great deal smaller than one which menaced him back in the roach-infested building that seemed so long ago. Instead this one only came up to his shoulder but it was fast and would kill him easily enough if it came within arms length.

All six bullets he fired hit the bear; five struck its skull and neck while the six went into its left eye with a burst of jelly and blood. The bear bellowed in pain but didn't stop its furious charge despite the injuries. Diego intervened before Johnny could fire again, pouncing on the bear at an angle with large teeth and claws puncturing into the bear's skin. It escalated into a violent mauling match between the Deathclaw and bear, Diego's thick scales and tough hide providing far better armour than the bear's red hairless skin. Johnny danced around anxiously on the side, unwillingly to fire for fear of shooting Diego but he dealt with the bear on his own; with a hammer arm to the side of the head Diego knocked the bear backwards, the bears stumbling into the cabin wall, and while it was stunned he lunged and sank his long teeth into the bear's neck, seizing its skull and base of its neck in both hands. With a violent twist and dull _crack_ Diego broke the bear's neck, throwing its twitching body onto the hard dirt ground with a heave.

Then he turned and gave Johnny a toothy grin, all blood and skin clinging to his fangs. Johnny couldn't repress his shiver.

As night fell the two spent time setting up the old fire pit, Johnny using an old lighter to set alight some of the books he'd found in the cabins.

Diego had wanted to eat the bear but quite frankly Johnny wasn't hungry enough to eat that horrid mess and he managed to convince Diego not to either. _'We have no idea if this crap is poisonous, just look at that thing,'_ Johnny had argued, pointing at the bear's malformed body littered with boils and red-raw skin. Diego grudgingly agreed after some angry signing Johnny couldn't understand. He ended up eating the meat he took from the Vault while Johnny ate another jar of salient green. He also found out half of one of Diego's bags was filled with Nuka-Cola, which Diego seemed fond of. Johnny just drank his for something to do, not out of a real desire for its flavour. 

If both had been in a hurry they would've found the camp within the first day but Johnny's bad back and Diego's fascination with the outside world limited their travel speed. At least Diego never questioned Johnny's frequent breaks and whenever Johnny stopped he'd just snuffle around the surroundings with obvious curiosity. The first night they just slept in a small shack but Johnny quickly found Diego's presence did wonders for his paranoia; Diego's senses were far better than Johnny's own and he was able to pick up threats far before Johnny could, even with his binoculars.

Numerous times Diego would poke him in the arm and point out something in the horizon, most of the times various mutated animals, or start growling at something Johnny couldn't even see. Having an extra set of eyes were a surprising assurance for him and Johnny found himself sleeping for longer as well, especially when Diego mentioned he need a lot less sleep so he could 'keep watch' most of the time. Johnny wasn't arguing.

He did find himself rambling a lot while traveling, Diego usually by his side. Johnny spoke of useless things, such as how he remembered some of the baseball games before the bombs fell, what he'd been watching on television, speaking of his old mare Slow Dancer or telling Diego about how he traveled to different places back before his injury and the cities he'd visited. Diego wasn't much for a conversationalist due to his inability to speak but he nodded in all the right places.

Despite that he still felt slightly wary of Diego, just mainly due to his bestial appearance. It was difficult for Johnny to remember Diego had been- was -a human considering how alien he looked but it also made him think of what that nun had said; _Deathclaw._ And apparently they were a species found across the remnants of America now. Johnny wasn't really looking forward to that, as he'd still inadvertently get spooked if he turned around only to find Diego had snuck up behind him. He didn't really want to think about actually fighting him.

But the camp was a comfortable enough place to rest for the night and once the fire was up and burning after the sunset he found himself sitting on the bedroll with Diego settling down next to him. Then, without really thinking about, he began to tell Diego about himself. About everything that happened to him and his family.

It felt good in a way, to tell Diego it. After he got shot- which seemed like a life time ago -everyone seemed to know what had happened to him, with it being plastered in the papers followed by years of slow and painful recovery. His personal life hadn't exactly been personal before that incident either, everyone seeming to know about his family drama and disownment then rising star status. A byproduct of fame, Johnny guessed, along with a wealthy family.

Diego however was someone who had absolutely no idea who he was, isolated far more than Johnny could ever know. He wasn't even sure how Diego didn't go mad, being sealed in a room for over a decade with no one but an insane zombie for company. Johnny probably would've lost it years ago. But Diego was sound enough of mind and was curious but Johnny offered up his past without any prompting. 

Next to him Diego shifted, shadows thick on his scaled face from the twisting fire before he stretched out a long tail and wrote in delicate swooping text.

Johnny.  Why did you tell me this? 

"Well..." Johnny looked away from the words scratched into the dirt, instead toying with one of his boot laces until Diego snorted irritably. He grimaced, "Look, I don't know. I already read all that stuff in Vault twenty four about you and the experiments and. Fuck, I don't know." He felt stupid trying to put it into words. Trust, maybe, but also a desire to just tell someone about his life since anyone who knew was long dead. Also the fact Diego was the first 'person' Johnny had met and was traveling with him now.

Not that, I meant why did you tell me you had a threesome with two complete strangers? 

"I- what?"

Why did you think I wanted to know that? 

Johnny felt his face burn, "I- I don't know, I just thought- Shut up, I told you all that shit and you focused on that?!"

Diego shrugged, brushing aside the words he'd written. Johnny resisted the urge to punch him considering all he'd do was bruise his hand. He was bruised enough as it is, making stretching or quick movement painful. He was still pissed though.

"Well, why do you hate drugs so much?" Johnny couldn't help but finally ask even if it was a blatant change of subject. He'd gotten into the habit of chewing on a tablet Buffout every few hours but the second time he'd done that Diego had torn the jar from his hand, smashing it to pieces on the ground and glaring at Johnny so forcefully he half expected a smack in the head. Then later while Johnny was sorting out his supplies Diego kept glaring at the needle of Med-X until Johnny tersely stated it was a painkiller and needed if one of them got injured.

He also decided to ignore his fairly strong cravings for Buffout after that, even if it nagged at him the following day and left his fingers shaky and tongue dry.

Diego just rolled his eyes at the question, a fairly interesting gesture considering how scaled his face and eyelids were before scratching in the dirt.

Look at me. What caused this?

"Oh. Right."

A long look before Diego turned back to the fire. He looked almost demonic in the flickering light, curved thick horns and protruding fangs. Strange how Johnny was sitting next to him, only a slither of space between their bodies. He didn't really know what Diego wanted and the Deathclaw seemed more than amendable to following Johnny with traveling to Goodneighbour. They'd probably die horribly in the attempt but for all Johnny's misery he wouldn't let that happen without a fight. 

There was also a morbid curiosity in what had happened to people in the two hundred odd years between the bombs detonating and their revival. After Ferdinand he thought perhaps everyone was a mindless zombie but the slavers, Lucy and the murderous nun allayed those fears somewhat but it seemed casual murder was a thing. Not that he was shedding tears over dead slavers but he got a 'wild west' vibe from the whole thing where justice was a bullet. At least he was getting a better shot as long as he paid attention. Johnny didn't really want to think about how easily he'd been caught the previous time.

Then Diego nudged his arm again, drawing him from his musing.

Why didn't you want to leave with that nun? You did not like her but human. 

"You're one to talk, you tried killing her," Johnny said sourly.

Diego waved a hand in a dismissive gesture, before sweeping through the words scrawled within the dirt and writing down another sentence.

They were strangers but you have met other humans, before the War.

"...I don't like religious people," he finally allowed through gritted teeth, "Just leave it at that."

Johnny was a bit impressed at how much contempt Diego managed to put in his snort. Annoyed but impressed all the same.

You do not seem to like anyone.

"Yeah," Johnny said shortly, "I'm going to sleep. Wake me up if someone is dying."

With those last annoyed words Johnny turned away, curling up on his bedroll with his Vault suit scrunched up under his head as a pillow. Diego didn't try to bother him again, beyond moving away to toss some more wood on the fire. Johnny lay there with the heat flickering against his exposed skin and the stars shining high above him. By the time he finally managed to fall asleep his slumber was shallow and nightmares slid their insidious fingertips in his dreams.

Despite it he remained sleeping even when Diego eventually settled back down next to him, curled around his small body like a great scaled wolf.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway I hate Johnny's dad and am still livid that he forgave him at the end of SBR. Fuck that noise.


	16. The ruins of before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Diego had Tag! skills they would be Science, Unarmed and Lockpick lol all his SPECIAL would be 10+ as well.

* * *

They followed the railway lines south, crossing the old bridge spanning width of the river and then continuing down the tracks. They did briefly stop to check out an old building past the bridge, which had a rusted sign stating 'BEANTOWN BREWERY' across the archway. Johnny preferred whisky over beer so he wrinkled his nose at the countless beer bottles scattered throughout the building. There was evidence of recent activity- a used fire pit and Diego's nose confirming the deeply entrenched stench of humans -but despite their caution it seemed the inhabitants weren't currently inside. They did find another one of those creepy cymbal monkey toys in the gift shop which nearly gave Johnny a heart attack as it activated when he moved by. Diego took its head off with a swipe of his claws, hissing irritably. There were also some traps when they were searching around the factory floor and elevator; only Diego's intervention stopped Johnny from accidentally triggering them and with nimble talons Diego undid the tripwires.

Diego was extremely knowledgeable about the outside world, something which consistently surprised Johnny. The Deathclaw was adept at using his claws as makeshift lockpicks, bypassing even the most difficult of doors, and was able to hack through computer systems. He could also quickly identify most things, which Johnny didn't expect due to being trapped within a Vault for his entire life and then subsequently a cage for more than a decade. When asked Diego told him he'd gotten into the Vault mainframe data system which gave him access to the entirety of Pre-War information stored in the Vault's computing hard drive. From his explanation that was a _lot_ of information and had kept him entertained for years and, since he was trapped inside a cell, he pretty much had nothing else to do except read. When Johnny asked why he didn't just hack open the door he just got such a look of condescending irritation Johnny had to hold back the urge to smack Diego in the nose, before being told the door opening system was on an isolated sever and only connection was to the door itself which was impossible to override from any other console.

Johnny felt a bit annoyed but stumbling down the stairs distracted him from his annoyance. Down in the bowels of the factory they did find a generator with a fusion core. Diego ejected it and put it into his bags before they went back upstairs. The only other thing of interest they found was a Vault-Tec lunchbox; Johnny remembered those things, being used as an advertisement tool for Vault-Tec and offering differing prizes. When Johnny pried open the lunchbox a glowing glass bottle of Nuka-Cola Quantum was resting inside. The soft blue glow emanating from the bottle illuminated his face and hands as he pried it out, remembering all the ads on the television and billboards about the new drink which boasted 'twice the caffeine and twice the taste' among other things. Diego had snatched him from his hands, making him hiss, before the Deathclaw huffed and sniffed at the bottle in extreme interest as the glow threw deep shadows across his scaled face and horns. Johnny didn't bother arguing for the drink, since he only really drank Nuka-Cola for the fluid rather than the taste, so he let Diego have it without a fight. Then they left the building before the current inhabitants showed up.

And not too soon they spotted a mixed dozen people traveling back to the brewery when they were over a mile away, Johnny watching them with the binoculars around his neck while Diego growled lowly next to him. The group looked ragged and Johnny just got the intense impression they would not be friendly so the duo carefully continued south for a day before veering towards the east, following the river bank. As they got closer to Boston they could see an eerie green glow coming from the far south west, which Johnny knew had been where the bombs had fallen before he'd gone into Vault 111. He really didn't want to think how absolutely irradiated that entire place would be. Diego, at least, seemed relatively unaffected by radiation but Johnny really didn't want to end up like the thing Ferdinand had turned into.

Their fourth day of travel got them stuck in a torrential downpour, just as the ruins of the city began to splay across the horizon in detail. Johnny quickly sought shelter in a nearby shack, eating the remains of the disgusting tomato thing and sipping on one of the last bottles of clean water they had. Diego meanwhile put down his bags and Vault suit in the shack before going outside and sitting a few feet away in the rain, his scaly body glistening as the rain streamed across him. At first Johnny didn't understand why Diego was willingly sitting out in the cold damp before finally realizing it was because he'd never felt rain.

 _Of course he's never seen rain, he was trapped inside a Vault his entire life._ Johnny untangled his own Vault suit from his waist, using it was an impromptu blanket as the chill seeped into his skin. Outside Diego flicked his tail from side to side, the rain running off his back like a miniature water fall.

He fell asleep like that, waking up the next day with an aching back and gritty eyes. He swallowed down the last of the water, noting they'd have to find another homestead to find a water pump or well at. Hopefully there'd be one between Boston and where they currently were, as he wasn't very fond of the idea of drinking the irradiated river water flowing to the left of them. Diego was none the worse to wear for his night in the rain, his blue scales gleaming as he tied back on his Vault suit and hip bags with careful movements. Once he'd chewed down several steaks the two were off.

Midday they got ambushed by a gigantic scorpion. Diego smelled it first but was unable to identity _what_ was following them and where exactly it was, but he snapped his jaw and kept hissing. When the van sized insect burst out of the ground, iron grey pincers raised, Johnny immediately scrambled up to the top of a nearby crashed bus. He ended up using his two grenades on the thing as his pistol barely scratched the giant insect's carapace; Diego's teeth and claws feared far better but the scorpion was immensely durable all the same. The grenades however injured it enough the thing gave up trying to kill them and retreated back underground in a flurry of earth with Diego snapping at its tail as it fled. After a few tense minutes Johnny hesitantly guessed it was gone and carefully jumped back down. Eventually Diego told him that he smelled nothing so they continued on.

Hand sized scorpions made Johnny wary enough but ones that were even bigger than he was freaked him out on an entirely different level. It also made him wonder what other animals had mutated and was rather grateful he wasn't in the likes of Africa; having to deal with potentially mutated lions and elephants sounded terrible. 

He did at one point fall down a hill, tripping near the top and rolling down the hard dirt to end up in a heap at the bottom. He just lay there in the dirt, face down and unable to summon the energy to get up. Nearly a minute passed before he felt Diego poking him in the side and he told the Deathclaw to leave him alone. Diego just continued to poke him, eventually shaking him violently until Johnny groaned and stood up. He had to yank off his hoodie and beat it against a rock to get rid of the dirt clinging to it, feeling like he wanted to sleep for ten years.

Johnny thought sleeping for two centuries would be enough, but apparently not.

Near nightfall they passed through a homestead that looked as if it had been a makeshift miniature town by apocalypse standards. There was a slapdash wall made of old corrugated iron sheets and car skeletons surrounding the skeletal remains of a burnt house and broad swathe lawn with a few rickety sheds built inside. The wall was partially torn down and there were countless bullet and scorch marks across the rusty sheets. The two door entry gates had been dented in and inside most things were burnt. 

Including the previous inhabitants.

Johnny fought down bile at the burnt remains of humans scattered across the yard and garden, nearly a dozen and in various states of decay. A few were so riddled with bullets their limbs had been partially blown off and one was missing the entirety of their head, most likely from a shotgun, which left the sheet of metal behind them covered in dried gore. Some of the skeletons were clearly the remains of children, bodies sprawled carelessly across the ground. One was even partially covered by the body of an adult, probably a parent who tried to protect them from the unknown attackers. The entire place disturbed Johnny deeply; he'd never seen a dead body before killing Ferdinand- even if Ferdinand had technically killed himself by accident -but seeing the charred bodies and scorched clothes of people who simply seemed to be farmers trying to live in a apocalyptic waste as best they could only to be raided and killed made a foreign feeling surge in his gut.

He wondered if the group they'd seen returning to the brewery were responsible and for a brief fanciful moment regretted not poisoning the used pot hanging over the fire pit they'd found inside. Johnny felt Diego would know something about poisons but Johnny still had that washing powder in his backpack. Maybe that'd work.

Stumbling over a charred bone knocked him from his revenge fueled musings, barely suppressing a noise of disgust. Diego seemed fairly unconcerned by the bodies rotting on the ground, snuffling at the remains before he went to check the remains of the vegetable garden only to find the plants picked clean and burnt as well. Johnny rather expected it, as no doubt resources were scarce. He had no qualms about stealing to survive but _burning_ people to death seemed fairly horrific. He was also quite certain he'd actually kill people to survive if push came to shove but fire just seemed rather torturous. He'd stick with his pistol and bullets. 

Checking the house revealed nothing but burnt wood and what was probably a couch and a series of beds at one point but around the back they did find a water pump but Johnny was only able to coax half a bottle from it before the water ceased. He eyed it unhappily but took a mouthful before offering the rest to Diego who swallowed it in a single gulp.

"Hopefully there'll be food and water at this 'Goodneighbour' place that mad nun mentioned," Johnny said sourly to Diego who grunted. He was getting fairly sick of eating that salient green stuff, even if it was filling and healthy. _Like mushy grass._

However his initial eagerness to reach the township got more and more uneasy as they traveled further east until they passed into Boston; what Johnny remembered was tall buildings, clean streets, bright cars and advertisements and billboards everywhere, with people bustling to and fro. Now it was dead, with a disturbing hostile silence clinging to the cracked and damaged buildings. Cars were scattered around the streets, some burnt into husks but others crashed through store fronts or lying abandoned by their long dead owners. A few scraggy, red-skinned dogs loped through the building and briefly harassed Johnny until Diego let out a serious, guttural snarl and chased them, making the dogs run off yelping.

They traveled along the road next the river, Johnny not wanting to cross through the city itself until they absolutely had to. He had a feeling a lot of monsters and bandits, maybe even slavers, lurked within and with their complete lack of medical supplies and Johnny's rapidly diminishing ammo he didn't want to chance it. Diego didn't argue with that.

A few buildings caught his interest, seeing them from the road they walked, such as amphitheater and a state house but he wrestled down the urge to go exploring. They could do that after a supply run in the- hopefully -friendly town. Johnny held quite a few fistfuls of money which he was relatively sure he could buy something. And if not Diego just suggested stealing the supplies or killing the owner and then taking everything not nailed down. Johnny wasn't really ready to go that far yet and just rather cautioned the Deathclaw that they probably couldn't kill an entire town on their own. Diego just snorted in such a 'try me' gesture Johnny gave up and continued walking.

After checking the mini map on his Pip-Boy Johnny reluctantly changed course to head through the streets, grimacing at how torn up and damaged the buildings and roads were as they ventured into the guts of Boston. There was a lot more climbing than he thought, having to carefully scale over chunks of plaster or concrete that'd fallen off the surrounding buildings along with some fairly lethal puddles of glass. Diego had an easier time, simply dropping to all fours and having tough scales. Johnny had to stop several times, back twitching and knees burning. Diego never complained when he did, at least.

They had to pass through a destroyed building, where one wall was entirely caved in with the two next floors spilling down, and Johnny half expected the whole thing to come down on them as they snuck through. Occasionally they could hear screams and gunfire echoing down the streets but didn't actually find any people. They did find some of the zombies like Ferdinand, all rotted and decayed with exposed muscles and tendons and crazed shrieks. Much like Ferdinand they were wild and rabid, attacking him with clawing hands. Diego usually killed them, his sharp claws ripping through their flesh and bones or swiping them with his tail, but sometimes Johnny would get ambushed by one playing possum or lurking in the shadows, forcing him to shoot them in the head- repeatedly -until they died. The rancid smell of their bodies made him gag, making to step over their twitching bodies to move on. Diego seemed fairly unbothered by the reek, despite his far better sense of smell even if Johnny was nervous with his handful of bullets left.

There was also the tram track, with the supports blown and the tram itself half buried under debris. He spared a brief morbid thought that the bones of the passengers were most likely inside before clambering up over the caved in concrete and metal, taking care not to cut himself on the sharp points and wires jutting among the ruins. It also made him wonder how many bones were buried underneath all the collapsed buildings, how many people who didn't die in the blast and radiation but rather were killed by the infrastructure damage. Or got trapped and died slowly from dehydration and starvation.

Shoving away a tide of morbid thoughts Johnny scrambled past the track, stumbling slightly as he dropped to the street. Behind him Diego growled and he turned just in time to see the Deathclaw swat the head off a zombie which had snuck up behind him. The blood seemed overly vivid against the dusty broken concrete and Johnny looked away, instead peering up and down the street; the left was just more road, with another ahead but to the right far end was a haphazard wall which stood two stories high and made of old tin sheets and spikes made from rust red rebar. 

Tentatively Johnny crept towards the wall, Diego's breath hot against his nape. He checked his Pip-Boy, the screen on his wrist showing the quickest way to Goodneighbour, which was the left street just before the wall. They skirted around the burnt remains of a bus sprawled across the road, alert for any sound of noise or movement, but they were able to head down the street without issue. Johnny dropped his hand from his pistol with a huff. Being in the city was beyond stressful to his nerves.

They walked without issue through the next three streets, having to curve around half buried vehicles and filth covered streets. Every so often they passed through a patch of sun, the ambient warmth comforting to Johnny in a way he couldn't really describe. The next street made Johnny nervous though, noting the two buildings on either side had an eerie 'lived in' look to them due to the piles of sandbags heaped near the entrance and cluster of rusted shopping trollies acting as a barrier. Diego hissed lowly in his ear but otherwise didn't react which let Johnny know there _was_ someone or something nearby and most likely not friendly.

Ducking around a street corner Johnny could see the green painted steel of another building with an oddly curved front and boarded doors. The building opposite was outfitted like the wall, with rebar spikes and sandbags piled around the entrance. A series of cages and sacks hung from the second level on long chains, filled with something bloody. He glanced to the left street, seeing where the street branched up into a destroyed overpass and then checked his map again.

Diego's hissing turned into low growling and he stopped Johnny with a large hand on the shoulder, roughly pulling him back a pace. At Johnny's questioning look Diego jerked his head towards the building with the rebar spikes, nostrils flaring. Johnny scowled at that, wondering how many people were holed up inside the building. Considering all the bloodied bones in the cages he doubted they would be welcoming. Probably shoot him and use his skin as a purse or something. 

Shifting until he was crouched behind a large tyre wedged into the ground, Johnny peeked through the holes to try and spot someone in the building. After a few seconds his gaze got caught by a unnervingly large dark shape moving about in one of the upper levels. Diego settled down next to him, claws flexing as his tail flicked from side to side with his nostrils flaring.

"Well we have to carry on down this block to reach Goodneighbour, it should be past here and then to the left and we should be there," Johnny whispered hardly, fingers lightly gripping the curve of Diego's horn, "And the other streets are blocked...Maybe we can head back and climb over a part of it? Sneak around them that way? Or try dropping off from the underpass and search that way."

Judging by the low growl Diego didn't exactly like that idea which Johnny couldn't help but agree with. He was tired and dirty and just wanted somewhere relatively comfortable to sleep, but it seemed the city was too dangerous for them to just pull up shop somewhere. Maybe if they had actual supplies but as it was they were low on food, water and weapons. Trying to crawl down an underpass and then skulk that way wasn't really appealing, especially since he got the impression the zombies would horde those areas like rats.

"Well, what the hell are we supposed to do?" Johnny finally hissed, hunching down slightly as one of the large shapes started wandering near the doorway of the building. He wasn't sure just _what_ the shapes were moving about in the old apartment complex but they were big and most likely had weapons. Johnny really didn't trust his odds in a fight with his pistol and he'd used his grenades.

Diego titled his head to the side, eyes narrowed as he remained crouched down. Johnny thumbed at his holstered pistol anxiously, unsure and afraid of the strange people roaming around the building. He already knew they wouldn't be friendly; the bloodied cages and sacks were a fairly good visualization of that. Then Diego nudged his arm, quickly scratching on the ground with a long claw.

We'll try just walking past them- you stay on my side next to the wall so they can't see you. Hopefully this 'Deathclaw' situation will work and they'll leave me alone, since that woman said they were dangerous opponents within the wastes.

"And if not?" Diego just huffed. _Fine, then._

The sloppy plan, weirdly enough, worked. Diego walked at a fairly slow pace with Johnny pressed tight to scaled leg. Diego was tall enough Johnny only had to hunch himself to hide behind Diego's hide, even if his fingers were gripping onto the strap of the bags looped around the Deathclaw's hips. He _really_ wasn't in the mood to be shot. If anything he just hoped that 'Goodneighbour' had an inn with beds or something. Sleeping on the ground really didn't do his back any favours.

When they were halfway down the block and walking past the crumbled entrance the shapes within seemed to take notice of them, with a series of grunts and clattering heard along with loud heavy footsteps.

"I heard something!" The voice was thick, as if the person was speaking around a mouthful of food and one of the shapes stepped out of the shadowed interior into the doorway.

Johnny peeked underneath Diego's belly and his fingers spasmed around the straps; the person was huge, being over eight feet tall with thick muscles and limbs. However the most striking thing was the person's skin, which was a deep verdant green with oddly lumpy flesh. Scraps of armour clung to their chest and broad shoulders, with tattered trousers and rusted iron boots. A large sledgehammer was held in both hands as the person craned their thick neck to the side, gaze fixed on Diego who ignored them and continued walking.

"Someone there?" Another voice called, just as guttural, and another giant green man joined the first. This one however had a large rifle with a battered helmet and chest piece.

"Eh, just a Claw." The first one said, wary stance dropping as they waved a massive hand irritably, "Too tough meat. Scales get stuck in teeth."

"Hngh."

Johnny pressed himself tight to Diego's leg, jaw clenched as he matched Diego step for step. He had absolutely no idea who those huge green men were but had no desire to get closer, even as the two turned back into the building, bickering in their deep voices. Diego exhaled slowly, his breath whistling through his long fangs, and Johnny had to resist the urge to poke his head over Diego's humped back to see where those giant green men had been. Instead he kept himself pressed tight against Diego until they ducked around the corner and out of sight.

"What the hell were those things?" Johnny hissed as soon as they were gone, casting a panicked glance over his shoulder and half expecting those weird green giants to be chasing them, "They looked nothing like Ferdinand. Is this from them being so close to where the bombs detonated? A different kind of mutation?"

Diego just shrugged and continued walking, his claws crunching over the ruined pavement. He clearly wasn't concerned about whatever those things had been. _Easy for him when he's covered in bullet proof scales,_ Johnny thought crankily as he shifted a pace away from the Deathclaw, rubbing at his aching fingers and then nearly tripping over an upturned slab of asphalt.

Checking his Pip-Boy made some of his unease vanish though, seeing at how the supposed town was a block away. He tried to swallow down the rising apprehension and excitement that consolidated in his gut at the prospect; he hadn't dealt with a town since before the bombs. The crazed nun and enslaved farm girl didn't really count. Neither did the slavers. Looking up he spotted a glow in the distance, straighten his aching back.

He lightly hit Diego's scaled thigh, "Look there's lights. Civilization, huh?"

Quickening his pace Johnny reached the end of the block where on the opposite wall were haphazard neon lights which were helpfully pointing right down the street, threaded into the form of an arrow along with a name.

_Goodneighbour._

Following the arrow they were led down the street. The side was lined with massive sheets of metal and tin wedged in the gaps between the buildings, roughly layered with planks and had scores of nails, bolts and screws hammered into them to keep them in place. Traveling halfway down the street they found the entrance, with another glowing neon sign helpfully pointing to the door behind two stacks of worn sandbags. Johnny stopped in front of the rusted green door, frowning up at the sign as his fingers twitched.

"I _could_ use a better gun," Johnny said lowly. He could also sorely do with a shower but that seemed to be a luxury in the shitty apocalypse. At least maybe some clean water so he can scrub off the filth and a hot meal.

Diego grunted in response, scrawling on one of the roughly nailed planks that served as the fortified wall of the town inside.

Wouldn't mind some actual cooked food. And more Nuka-Cola. 

"Easy there," Johnny warned, even if a ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "For all we know this town is going to be full of cannibals. I wouldn't be surprised considering how crazy everyone has been so far."

Who cares, I'm hungry. Better than eating those green things anyway.

Johnny hummed in agreement, still not having any idea what those giant green people had been but figured they wouldn't be that friendly; the bloodied, body-part filled sacks hanging around the building they had been in was a fairly clear indication. Diego pulled back his arm, cocking his head to the side before quickly dragging his claw across the wood again.

If they are cannibals we can kill them and take their things.

"Maybe you can..." Johnny grumbled, stepping over a pile of trash and grasping the dented door handle. The strange nun, Hot Pants, had mentioned the town being friendly towards his types but for all he knew it was just some elaborate trap but found he was too tired to really care.

 _Whatever,_ Johnny thought, before yanking open the door and entering the township.

* * *


	17. Goodneighbour

* * *

The place smelled like piss, vomit, booze and something burning and he wanted to leave immediately. Instead Johnny swallowed down his disgust as he walked in further, the green door slamming shut behind him with a sharp _bang._ Diego would probably be pissed at him slamming the door in his scaly face but whatever he'd get over it. 

The interior of Goodneighbour was gritty, with fires burning in drums and electronic lights showing entryways for shops. The people walking around and low drone of voices; despite the filth and reek Johnny did relax minutely when he finally, truly, understood there was other people out there and not just crazed nuns, crying farm girls and bandits. Scrubbing his sweaty hands against his pants he walked further into the township, eyeing a man tinkering with a rusted motorcycle and the gun-wielding people wandering about. 

To the left was a large makeshift stage and upon the podium there was a strange metal skeleton set up on it, numerous lights pointed at it as some odd showcase. For all he knew it was some weird mechanic's display or something, even if the robot itself looked almost like a creepy test dummy or automatron.

Then a man clad in dusty leather approached Johnny when he'd barely gotten a few feet forward, flagging him down with a friendly wave of his hand. The stranger grinned at him and Johnny glared. preemptively annoyed by the man's oily smile. 

The man seemed unperturbed by the hostility, taking the time to light a cigarette before saying in a raspy voice, "Hold up there. First time in Goodneighbour? Can't go walking around without insurance." the man said, taking a long drag on his cigarette and blowing out a cloud of the foul smell smoke. 

Johnny rolled his eyes, unimpressed by his attempted sell. He wasn't new to extortioners or scam artists, having come across more than his fair share while a jockey; that whole industry had been rife with it and the stranger was very obvious.

However Johnny decided to play dumb for the time being, asking in his most innocent voice, "Insurance?"

"That's right. Insurance. Personal protection, like. You hand over everythin' you got in them pockets or accidents start happenin' to ya. Big, bloody accidents," the man said casually before taking another drag from his cigarette.

He clenched his fist, resisting his urge to look over his shoulder to figure out where Diego had gone to. He wasn't so pathetic as to instantly go running to the scaled beast for help but Johnny just had his dinky pistol and a broken plasma pistol. Not exactly much to intimidate with though he wasn't adverse to throwing a punch. Turned out the fight wasn't needed however, with a third party intervening.

"Whoa whoa, time out," a raspy voice said and Johnny looked over to see someone dressed in a tattered, crimson over coat and a tricorn hat, sauntering up the nearby alleyway, "Someone steps through the gate for the first time they're a guest. You lay off that extortion crap."

The bald man backed off from Johnny, circling around to confront the newcomer. There was something _off_ with him, with his face, but Johnny couldn't put his finger on it while the two started to argue.

"What'd you care? He isn't one of us," the conman said irritably.

"No love for your mayor, Finn? I said let him go."

Finn scoffed, "You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us one day there'll be a new mayor."

The man with the burnt looking features seemed unbothered by the barely veiled threat, even as Johnny noticed quite a few people stopping to watch the two argue.

"Come on man," The mayor, Hancock, said in decidedly soothing tones, "This is me you're talking about. Let me tell you something..." He strolled forward, patting Finn on the shoulder in a friendly gesture before swiftly pulling out a long knife with his other hand from underneath his coat and stabbing Finn twice in the gut. Blood splattered across the stones even as Finn gurgled and collapsed, dead, on the ground.

Looking supremely unconcerned, Hancock flicked the blood from his blade before putting it back onto his hip, "Now why'd you have to go and say that? Breaking my heart over here." 

Johnny shied back, staring at Finn's body even as a crimson pool began to rapidly grow underneath him across the broken asphalt. _Shit._

"You alright, brother?" Hancock moved closer and Johnny suddenly realized why his face looked so wrong; it was like Dr. Ferdinand's, nose rotted away and skin decayed, peeling. The main difference was Hancock's pitch black eyes whereas Ferdinand's had been cloudy and bulging. Hancock also lacked the glowing green boils but nonetheless had the same rotted features and it made him tense in preparation for fight or flight.

"You killed him," Johnny said stupidly.

"Got a good pair of eyes on ya. I think you'll fit in here." Hancock said, seemingly unconcerned with Johnny's revulsion, "Goodneighbour's of the people, for the people you feel me? Everyone is welcome."

"What the hell? What is wrong with you?" Johnny snapped, finally getting his bearings as he jumped backwards and sweaty fingers gripping the butt of his gun.

"Hey hey, no need for that."

"You're one of those messed up zombies, why should I calm down?"

The zombie's pitch-black eyes narrowed, "Alright look, there's a lot of walking rad freaks like me around here so you might want to keep those kind of comments to yourself. Stay cool and you'll be part of the neighbourhood. However act up and you could end up like our pal Finn here so-"

Hancock abruptly broke off talking, nonexistent eyebrows raising even as his hand drifted towards his belt.

Johnny looked over his shoulder, seeing that Diego was peering through Goodneighbour's entry gate, nostrils flaring and fanged maw partially open. His long claws were gripping the pale green door, before shoving it open with the squeal of hinges and stomping into the town to the panic of many of the guards who yanked their weapons free and pointed them at him. Johnny upholstered his pistol, keeping it to his side as he shifted backwards and eyeing everyone warily.

"The fuck is a Deathclaw doing here?!"

"Whoa, what the hell-"

Hancock brought his hands up in a calming gesture, even as Diego stalked across the courtyard until he was directly behind Johnny. When he looked up, he could see the yellowed scales of the underside of Diego's throat from where his head was above Johnny's While Johnny was a few seconds from shooting, it seemed the zombie mayor had a fairly intense clout with the inhabitants of Goodneighbour was no one had fired yet simply due to his gesture.

"..I guess he's with you," Hancock said, after a bout of curious staring. Then he frowned at the guards, grouped in a loose circle around Diego in various states of panic, "Settle down all of you. As I said, someone steps through these gates for the first time they're a guest. Not exceptions."

A low swelling growl rumbled out of Diego's chest as the Deathclaw's stance shifted, the Vault suit stretched across his chest bumping into the back of Johnny's head. Despite the hostility Johnny felt ridiculously glad for Diego's protection especially since he noticed with some alarm that most of the people pointing guns were zombified like Ferdinand. _But why aren't they savage? Why do they even look like that? Is this a zombie town or something?_

Hancock meanwhile seemed more intrigued than threatened, staring at Diego some more before shifting his attention to a tense Johnny as he said in his low husky voice, "Everyone here lives their own life, their own way. No judgements." His black eyes slid up to regard Diego, "Same goes for you, big fella."

Diego stomped around Johnny so he was directly in front of Hancock, scaled nose almost hitting the zombie's forehead. To his credit the mayor didn't even flinch, though Johnny noticed a lot of the guards tensing up in response to Diego's proximity to Hancock. Truthfully Johnny expected Diego to bite the zombie's head off, something he was actually hoping he would do. Instead Diego stretched out a long arm and scratched something quickly onto the ground next to Hancock without moving his eyes off the mayor as Johnny sidled forward. For a long moment Hancock didn't move before he looked down at the neat words Diego had written.

Piss off.

Hancock burst out laughing at that, "Alright fair enough. Man- uh, person -needs his privacy. You two are free to stay here and who knows, maybe this'll be a place you'll consider your home away from home. Just remember who's in charge." His words became dark at the end, even if he kept the smile on his rotten face. With those words he turned heel and nonchalantly walked off before disappearing into one of the buildings down the alleyway. 

Diego huffed irritably, tossing his horned head before glaring at one of the locals and snarling. A woman let out a little _eep!_ and ducked into a nearby shop, tripping over the step as she did so. To the side Finn's still warm corpse was being pick cleaned by some nosy passerbys even if many kept on casting paranoid looks at Diego. He ignored them and started to walk down what passed for a street where the mayor had disappeared to, Johnny quickly following him and shoving his pistol back into its holster.

Johnny briefly poked his head in the building Hancock had vanished into but it had more of the zombies in suits and fedoras with machine guns. He quickly shut the door when the closest one looked at him, hurrying back to Diego's side.

They got many stares, especially when they turned the corner to what seemed to be the main stretch for the town which was filled with street vendors on one side and on the other a wooden podium with some glowing humanoid thing trapped in a cage resting upon it. A sign showing the 'market rules' was in clear sight and the business of the market came to an awkward halt when Johnny walked down the street in full view with Diego at his side. He resisted the urge to blush, instead glaring at one of the guards. 

It quickly became apparent the 'Pre-War' currency was fairly useless but the small girl at the toy stall told him to see the robot inside the remains of the bank to exchange the notes for caps. The idea of bottle caps being used as currency baffled Johnny and he argued with the girl over it while Diego nosed around the market, scaring many of the owners and making a few customers run across the road to get away from him. Johnny even saw a woman snatch up her kid and straight up sprinted down the street when Diego looked at them, as if she expected Diego to try devouring her child. The Deathclaw ignored all of that however and made his way to a zombie set up next to the podium, painting the brick wall.

The market was recognizable to Johnny from a point; he'd been in less 'savoury' parts of cities and towns before, where scammers and street artists called home. He enjoyed them a great deal and the cap-made jewellery, hawked prices and the ragged drug dealer lurking by the husk of a bus reminded him of how things had been. A funny type of nostalgia. He was fairly sure many alleyways had muggers as well. At least in this situation he was allowed to have guns and be allowed to stab people right back. With the mayor's impression Johnny felt that attitude was encouraged.

"Interested in buyin'?" One of the stall vendors asked him, with a spread of colour magazines on the blanket in front. Johnny recognized them all from his long stints in hospital and childhood years and admittedly they were in good condition considering the apocalypse.

He had caps now after exchanging his wads of Pre-War money but wanted to buy a better gun and medicine, but if he had any left over he was going to spend on booze at a bar if the place had one. He felt like he was dragging out the sobriety and quite frankly wanted to just get drunk since Diego smashed all his Buffout. So he was about to blow off the vendor when a large scaly arm dragged him away, nearly knocking him over.

"Damnit Diego, the hell is wrong with you-" Diego ignored his protests, pulling him across the street until they were in front of the zombie next to the brick wall of a three storied building, surrounded by the buckets of paint. He roughly jostled Johnny when he shoved him out of his grip, and Johnny punched his arm in retaliation. It mainly just hurt his hand than Diego's scaled hide.

The zombie looked nervous as Diego crowed up in his personal space, staring intently at the tall portrait of a woman and her daughter clad in white and holding hands beneath a blue sky before twisting his neck around to look at Johnny, making a _come on_ motions with his hand and jerking his horned head towards the zombie.

"He wants to paint something." Johnny said, shooting in the dark. Diego nodded next to him, his long tail flicking back and forth as he stared intently at the painter.

"Oh, I uh..." The zombie looked fairly overwhelmed, especially with Diego just continued to stare.

"Can you give him some of your paint?" Johnny pressed. He'd probably have to buy some.

Ignoring the request Diego stomped past and picked up a can of dark black paint and then directed his attention to the side of the wall the zombie had set up by, the one part that wasn't painted or graffiti'd. He didn't even bother looking at Johnny or the zombie before flicking open the can and dipping a sharp claw in. Using the back of his claw as a brush he started painting on the wall in sharp, quick strokes.

"Yeah, you do whatever," Johnny said, annoyed at Diego getting distracted, "I'll see if I can buy some new weapons. I think there's a gun shop back out front."

Diego just grunted, focused on his painting while the zombie peered at him in equal parts curiosity and fright, so Johnny took that as a go-ahead. Leaving him with the zombie painter Johnny walked back the way they came only this time he had a destination in mind. After a moment of staring he looked at where Finn's body had been- someone had removed it, even though there was still a drying puddle of blood on the stones before looking at the store on the corner.

 _Guns Guns Guns_ were printed in dark letters, decorated with a neon gun sign while hanging off the corner was a sign saying _Kill or be Killed_. The shop was just set up inside a building that had its wall blown out but the lights were on inside despite the late hour. After a moment of dithering Johnny force himself to go inside. He needed a better weapon and at least exchanging his money gave him caps. He still couldn't take it seriously that people used bottle caps as currency.

Walking inside he saw that the clerk was clearly a robot, all heavy dark metal and a red cyclopian eye. Unlike Mister Gutsy's or Sentry bots it was humanoid, with two legs and arms with heavy claws for hands. It was most likely made by RobCo or maybe General Atomics. He was fairly sure they had a hand in the Vaults as well but who even knows. He shook it off, at least comforted the robot wasn't a zombie. There seemed to be a lot of them in the town and it made him jumpy even with Diego lurking around.

"Well hello." The robot greeted him in a calm low voice as when he stepped over the broken lip of the wall, "Everything here is designed to injure, maim or kill at your discretion. Except me, I only kill when I want to."

"What are you?" Johnny asked bluntly, leaning forward. He had never seen that type of automatron before, not even with all the war blustering before the bombs. Most he knew were for the war effort but he wasn't familiar with that particular model.

"I'm a woman baby, can't you tell?" Came the coquettish reply. 

"And I'm all man, seems people get confused with both of us," Johnny said blandly,.

He could sense the robot assessing him curiously before she said in warmer tones, "You can call me Kleo, fully independent small business owner."

"Well, what do you have?"

"A gun for every occasion..." she cooed, "Of course, it depends on just _what_ occasion you're looking for."

"Killing things. All I have is this pistol. That doesn't seem to cut it for those things that live out here."

He spent nearly ten minutes looking over Kleo's wares, the robot helpfully pointing out the various means to maim and butcher. She was also willingly to take the broken plasma pistol off his hands for a modest amount of caps. Eventually he settled on a hunting rifle and ammo, along with buying a long barrel modification for it. While Johnny wasn't particularly good with many things, he did have a fairly good eye and hopefully improve on his fairly lackluster gun slinging skills. He still kept his pistol however mainly as a backup and even bought a sharp combat knife as another backup if he ran out of ammunition.

Kleo also offered a rocket launcher and a Fat Man, but quite frankly Johnny didn't trust himself with those kinds of weapons. He'd probably just blow himself up. As it was, he'd blown most of his money on the rifle and as much as he wanted something with a bit more grunt he had to be frugal. Especially since he wanted to stock up on medical supplies before he left Goodneighbour and said as much to her. Kleo promptly informed him the town did not, in fact, have a doctor.

"That's not a very sound business practice," Johnny complained. Kleo offered the robotic equivalent of a shrug but said he should check with Daisy next door otherwise he'd need to travel to Diamond City. Strapping his new rifle across his back he ventured back outside to duck into the next store.

 _Daisy's Discounts_ was scrawled in large crimson letters across the top of an archway of the re purposed house. Despite being so wary of the weird zombie pirate who'd killed someone in front of him and then wandered off, Johnny knew he needed supplies even with Diego following him around. Kleo, at least, was hospitable if not blood thirsty but even then Johnny struggled not to blanch at the sight of Daisy.

She was another zombie, face rotted and muscles exposed. The fake short wig of brown hair on her head did nothing to distract from the decaying skin or noseless face. He shifted back slightly, before moving forward towards her with what he hoped was a neutral expression. Hopefully she could sell _some_ medical supplies so he could get away from this shit town.

"Oh, a new face walks into my store. And you're not even screaming yet. Very polite. You let me know if anything catches your fancy."

"Yeah, sure," Johnny said through gritted teeth.

She cocked her head to the side, wig not moving an inch on her head, "Sheesh, settle down kid. Least you're not screaming, but no need to act as if I'm going to go feral on you."

"I'm convinced." He had to choke down the urge to draw his pistol, Ferdinand's wild screaming face pressing at the forefront of his mind.

A scoff, "Yeah one of my ears might have fallen off but that doesn't mean that I'm deaf to that tone. Or blind, you seem to be trying to glare a hole through my head. What's wrong, I owe you some caps or something?"

"No. I ran into one of your kind," Johnny said tersely, "He was an animal and tried killing me."

"Yeah, ferals will do that. Just run on primal instinct," she didn't seem bothered by the explanation and if anything her terse tone relaxed, "In that case don't really blame the side eye. Some people just lose their shit completely when they go ghoul. What kind was it?"

"What?"

"You know, the feral that went after you. Just...normal? Or a Glowing one?"

Johnny was quickly getting annoyed by the conversation and how her face twisted and twitched with her speaking, "Oh great, there's different breeds of zombies. I don't know, he was all fucked up and had these weird glowing boils all over him with this burnt looking skin. I didn't try to look too closely while he was trying to rip my head off."

"Aw shit, a Reaver? Huh. They're some of the nastiest ferals you can run into. Surprised a little green horn like you got away."

"Green horn?" Johnny bristled.

"Don't take it personal, kid. You have 'Vault dweller' written all over you. Pretty rare nowdays though, Vault eighty one is the only one that actually seems to be working in the Commonwealth. Your lot tend to not live too well outside."

"This Vault eighty one...where is it?"

"West from Diamond City. I'd recommend you go through that way. Tends to be safer and you can supply up a bit more while heading through the city."

"Do they have a doctor there?"

"Yeah, living it large," Daisy sniffed. Or made a noise equivalent, due to the loss of her nose, "My types aren't welcome but you would be. Maybe not your big pet, though."

"He isn't my pet."

"Well, whatever it is. Might wanna leave him outside. Now, do you wanna buy something?"

"I would ask if you have stimpacks but I guess not," Johnny said sourly. The wig hadn't moved an inch, despite Daisy's movements. He wondered if it was stapled to her head.

"Something the mayor needs to work on. But eh, might try next week. Usually have fresh orders then but for the time being I'm out."

"...Right. How are you a zombie, anyway?" Johnny asked. She didn't smell as horrid as Ferdinand, at least. Or maybe that was just the typical Goodneighbour reek that overpowered it. The town did smell like Vegas after a wild night.

" _Ghoul,_ kid. The term is ghoul."

"I don't think you should be calling me kid since my birth probably predates yours by two centuries," Johnny couldn't help but snark.

"Ha! I doubt it. I think I look pretty good for being two hundred years old," Daisy threw back.

"Two hundred?"

"Fine, two hundred and seventy. Do you know what it's like being that old?"

"Yeah." Johnny wasn't very amused.

She grinned, showing ugly rotted teeth, "Well now you're just making fun of me. If you were as old as I was, you would've been around since since before the War. So let's hear it, come on. Tell me what the world was like before the War, if you're so ancient.

"I was. I'm from before the War," Johnny said, "Was frozen in a Vault for two hundred years. Only got out recently and I have to say, this new world is garbage compared with the past. I mean sure, constantly threat of nuclear bombardment, communism panic and people vanishing left right and centre but whatever. Clean air, green grass and blue skies. Don't even have that here."

"Hm, yeah it was beautiful wasn't it? Damn, I never thought I would miss it." Her black eyes seemed to glisten and she quickly wiped at them with a hand, "Sorry, last thing you want to see is an old lady tearing up."

He nodded, uncomfortable at the emotion from something who looked like a walking corpse. After a brief second Daisy caught her composure, clearing her throat, "Anyway, don't have any stimpacks for you so guess there isn't much business to be had. I can point you around town, if you like."

"Really? And why would you do that?"

"Settle down, they're just directions," Daisy raised her hands, "Figured I could help you out a little bit. You seem interesting, what with a pet Deathclaw and Hancock's attention."

"Yeah that mayor of yours really rolled out the welcome wagon," Johnny said sarcastically.

Daisy laughed mirthlessly, "I've known Hancock a while and let me tell you, he was handling you with some pretty soft kid gloves before."

"I'm swooning."

The laugh that time was genuine, "I wouldn't be surprised. Ah, you should've seen him when he was a smooth skin."

"A what?"

"Smooth skin? You know, human. On account of your smooth skin?"

"...Right." _So the zombies had a nickname for humans as well. Charming._

"But back to the topic at hand- if you're looking for a drink the Third Rail further down at the end of town is where you wanna go and there's Hotel Rexford for a place to sleep, least there isn't too much motor oil in the swill down there. Also where mercenaries hang out, so if you want a added gun and to help with the muties and Deathclaws- the wild type, obviously -around here it's where you wanna start. There's also the memory den just across the street."

"Muties?" The word snagged his attention.

"Yeah, muties. Super Mutants. Big green things who urgh and grunt and yell and shoot anything that moves?" Daisy said in overly slow tones, raising a nonexistent eyebrow.

"Oh, them. I just sneaked past them," Johnny grimaced. At least they hadn't been interested in shooting Diego instead just complaining how tough a 'Claw' is to eat.

"Eh that's one way to do it. Bastards are tough, I'll give them that, but otherwise are as dumb as a sack of hammers."

The awkward conversation ebbed off at that, Johnny still distasteful of her exposed muscles and tendons shifting in her peeling face while she spoke. He half expected a maggot to peek out of her missing nose or something morbid. After some uncomfortable staring he turned and left without a word, nearly tripping over some random garbage by the door and leaving down the remains of the street. He passed more of the zombie people- _ghouls_ -walking around as some weird militant neighbourhood watch but there were also quite a decent number of 'smooth skins'. He also quickly pieced together the guards seemed to have a uniform consisting of the suits and fedoras, armed with tommy guns.

There was some curious looks but Johnny noticed most were directed to his Pip-Boy which Johnny guessed was a fairly blatant indication he was a Vault dweller. They seemed a rare commodity and he resisted the urge to hide his hand behind his back as he walked. When he got back to the market there was a curious crowd grouped where the painter was while Diego was sprawled across the concrete like a large cat. As he got nearer he was able to see what Diego had painted while Johnny was buying his new gun.

It was a portrait of a woman.

She was depicted from the shoulders up with long dark hair framing her face and head turned, expression soft and mouth curved in a gentle smile. It was painted in sharp, slightly jagged lines but there was a gentleness to the picture that lessened the harshness of the strokes.

Diego heaved himself up when he spotted Johnny's approach, the townspeople scattering as he walked forward until he reached Johnny.

"Who is she?" Johnny asked. Diego ignored the question, instead just staring at Johnny blankly. He tried repeating it but got the same response so after a moment Johnny gave up that line of thought. _Whatever, it's his business._

"Well...I spoke to one of the shop owners after buying a new gun and she mentioned there's a place further down called the Third Rail, which is like a bar and then there's Hotel Rexford for a place to sleep. So we'll use that since I've got some caps left over so let's get a drink first." Diego nodded and bunted his nose against Johnny's shoulder in an obvious 'get on with it' gesture.

It nearly knocked Johnny over and he grunted irritably, ignoring the stares as he walked down the street. Hotel Rexford was easy enough to see, the building towering above with glowing neon lights but he ignored that in favour of continuing down the cracked road to find the bar.

"Stay free, brother," one of the ghoul's rasped at him as they walked past. Johnny really didn't know how to respond to that while Diego just gave a low grunt. At least it was better than blatant staring.

There was a helpful sign above the entry of a clearly a repurposed metro station at the end of the street, stating 'The Third Rail' in brick red letters. Johnny looked back, nearly bumping into Diego's snout as he eyed the sky; it was starting to get dark and even with Diego's presence he didn't want to be outside at night in a town like Goodneighbour but at least the hotel was fairly close. Probably end up stabbed and stripped of valuables much like Finn if he lingered in the dark. The rifle and knife were a comforting weight now especially since the zombies still freaked him out and just reminded him of Ferdinand.

Ignoring that he instead walked up to the Third Rail's entry door and went through, with Diego close behind.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Better Goodneighbour Mod](https://www.nexusmods.com/fallout4/mods/16594/) which adds a lot of things, including more vendors along with the ghoul street artist <3


	18. The Third Rail

* * *

A zombie was guarding the stairway in the lobby of the old subway station, dressed in a black tuxedo with a top hat. A series of lights were set up around the stairs but on the whole the lobby was fairly dark and dank. Johnny reigned in his distaste at the rotting man, Diego's breath hot against his nape as he forced himself forward with stiff strides. The zombie tensed as he spotted Diego but then relaxed after a moment; probably realizing that there'd be a bit more screaming and gunfire from outside if they hadn't been allowed in.

"Hancock says newcomers are welcome in the Third Rail," the zombie said in his rough low voice, "Go on in."

"Alright," Johnny said. He wasn't really in the mood to talk to the zombies- _ghouls_ -as their faces still creeped him out immensely. They also smelt like rotting meat which didn't really help, Johnny wrinkling his nose as he walked past the zombie and catching a whiff of his odour.

As they walked down the stairwell soft singing began to echo up through the tunnel, low and husky as they descended the first flight of stairs before taking the turn. When they reached the bottom Johnny noticed how the subway landing had been refitted into a bar. The remains of the train from the Pre-War era was still in the partially collapsed tunnel but it seemed to be purely ornamental now. A long stretch of bar lined with stools took up most of the wall next to the derailed train with a battered Mister Handy cleaning a glass behind the counter. At the end of the bar was a small rise where the singer, a dark haired woman wearing a sparkly red cocktail dress, was swaying to and fro as she crooned into the microphone. An assortment of tables, chairs and tables as had been set up around the bar where an assortment of people were sitting and drinking while the woman sang.

The conversation noticeably ebbed when Johnny walked across the landing towards the bar, hunching his shoulders even if he knew most of the stares were directed at Diego right behind him. The woman in the red dress watched them but didn't stop with her singing. A few people tensed or even got up to scuttle away from Diego- including one man covered in oil skins who had to snatch up his mutant fish to dash away as Diego passed. Johnny decided to ignore them all, instead heading from the metal bar tender. The numerous neons signs hanging on the walls in the station made it rusted steel plates gleam with a rainbow of colours.

"Oi, we got beer. And if you ain't buying beer then you ain't buying," the Mister Handy said as Johnny reached the bar. Its voice was British accented like every other Mister Handy but had a noticeably rougher, more sarcastic edge to it. It also had a British flag plastered onto its chassis and a small bowler was sitting on top of its spherical body.

"Got any whisky?" He asked, bumping against the bar top as Diego's snout pressed against the back of his head. Numerous clusters of melting candles were set up along the counter, their flickering flames contrasting with the persistent neon signs.

"Here's to drowning sorrows," the Mister Handy said as it used one of its spider-like arms to pluck out a bottle of whisky from behind the counter, "That'd be ten caps."

Johnny dug in his pockets to pick out the bottle caps, trying to ignore Diego's hot breath right behind him that dampened the skin of his nape. Even if he was being overly close Johnny was gladdened by the Deathclaw's presence. The bar was smoky and lit with low lights, making the shadows long and voices raspy. Many of the people looked world weary, with ragged clothing, callused fingers and guns hanging from their hips and shoulders. Johnny felt nervous about being so exposed to others after weeks of traveling the wastes with no one for company.

The Mister Handy's pincer swiped away the caps as soon as he laid out enough on the bar with twitchy fingers, its other limb putting the bottle full of amber liquid in front of him. The bottle had been cleaned, certainly compared to the mess he'd found many other bottles in the wastes but Johnny was curious to know how old the liquor was. Either way he picked up the bottle, the glass neck cool against his palm.

"Mind your claws," the Mister Handy suddenly addressed Diego, its middle eye stalk jutting out towards him. The Deathclaw just gave a grunt in response.

Johnny lingered near the bar as the red-clad woman wrapped up her song with a few graceful motions of her hands. Diego moved away, walking back across the room even as hushed whispers and pointing fingers followed his movements. At least people seemed to forget Johnny was with the Deathclaw, some giving him annoyed looks or even random bits of advice like one of the zombie's wearing a mechanics suit as she ambled past him.

"What? Another one of you mercs looking for McCready? He's in the back," the zombie rasped before she took a long swig of her beer. The exposed muscles and tendons of her throat pulsed with the swallow, making Johnny grimace as he edged away from her.

He had no idea who McCready was or why he was assumed he was a mercenary. Johnny guessed such an industry would be booming in a post nuclear wasteland. He got distracted when the woman in red descended from her stage after a brief thank you message, her sparkly dress making small chips of light dance across the ground as she walked towards the bar.

"Beautiful as always, Mags," the Mister Handy said as she got close.

She smiled at the machine, walking past Johnny as she said, "Thanks Charlie. Can I get some water?"

"No need to even ask. I always set aside a stash of the good stuff just for you."

"You are such a sweetheart Charlie. Thank you." She slid onto the bar stool, picking up the glass the Mister Handy- Charlie -placed in front of her delicately with a pincer. Despite her easy movements she knocked back the entire glass in a single swallow. He wasn't sure if it really was water or vodka.

Johnny felt oddly nervous as he approached her, unable to help himself, "Um, excuse me miss?"

"What's the matter, handsome?" the dark haired woman smiled at him, as she pushed away from the bar, "Don't tell me you don't like the song?"

"No, I liked it," Johnny said, "A bit nostalgic though."

"Oh well thank you, a girl does try her best." Her expression became more contemplative as she looked him up and down before settling back on his face, "Hm, there's something special about you, isn't there? Don't tell me, let me guess...You're a survivor, aren't you? I bet the whole world could stand in your way and you'd just keep going."

Johnny's fingers slid around the cool body of the whisky bottle in his hands, watching the woman curiously as she eyed him with a slow, pensive stare. She looked so much how someone from Johnny's time would be, reminded him of the lounge singers when he visited Vegas on the few parts he could actually remember.

"Hm, but tell me what brings you to my part of town?" the woman said after a long moment of mutual staring.

"You tell me." He couldn't help but play coy. For some reason the woman was flustering him and not just because she was attractive.

"We're all just trying to forget something aren't we? I think you and I are going to get along just fine." the woman smiled at him, all half lidded eyes and red lips, "So it's my turn to answer questions, right? What can I do for you?"

"I wouldn't mind another song," Johnny said. He really wouldn't.

"Alright, I can try a different tune for you..." She smiled before she turned and walked back up to the podium, her crimson dress sparkling in the light as she moved. There she ran a pale hand down the length of the microphone before easing into a song, the lyrics and pace more preppy compared with the slow jazz of her previous song.

He watched her, leaning against the bar and swaying slightly while his fingers slid across the cool glass of the liquor bottle. It was only when the Mister Handy, Charlie, swiveled around to start sorting through the assortment of beers on the wall behind the bar did Johnny jolt out of his dozing. The singer's voice curled in his ears and he looked around the bar at the interesting patrons having dinner or enjoying a drink. Most looked tired while others were chatting happily with their companions, yet they all had the fairly intense look about them. As if they were well used to the horrors of the wastes. It made Johnny wonder how fragile he probably looked in comparison to them.

On the edge of that thought he cast a look around the Third Rail to try and spot Diego; he was sitting at one of the tables in the corner, resting on his haunches on the floor with his scaly forearms resting on the tabletop. The glowing bottle of Nuka-Cola Quantum was clasped between his clawed hands and he'd somehow managed to find a straw in the refurbished subway station. It was rather funny, seeing Diego's large form holding a glass bottle and delicately sipping through a straw that was tucked between his protruding front fangs.

Johnny made a beeline for the table, ignoring some of the stares he got before he sidled up next to Diego who gave a grunt of hello at him. Shrugging off his backpack Johnny set it down on the couch next to the Deathclaw, sitting down next to it so he was to the side of Diego. The whisky sloshed from side to side in the bottle, Johnny sighing as he settled down on the moth eaten cushions. It felt good to sit on something _kinda_ comfortable after trekking through the wastes and the ruins of Boston. 

At the stage the woman was still singing, swaying in tune to her song as her dress sparkled.

_"Like a mushroom cloud in the sky I felt my world stop, waving goodbye. Radiating through and through, baby, it's just you."_

The nostalgia curled thick in Johnny's chest, what with him sipping on the whisky with burned down his throat to warm his stomach while the bar had a low haze of smoke from the candles and cigarettes with the neon and candle lights making the fog thick with motes. Diego gave a low grunt next to him, the tip of his tail flicking against Johnny's shin.

Johnny blinked, realizing with some equal parts amusement and exasperation that there were tears slipping down his cheeks. He scrubbed at his face with the fabric cuff of his right wrist, ignoring how Diego bumped elbows with him even as the Deathclaw slurped on his straw.

"I'm fine. Just homesick, I guess," Johnny admitted quietly. He felt stupid almost, saying it out loud. _Who'd know I'd miss my old life so much? Not the people but...I don't know..._

Instead Diego imagined in one of the pouches on his hips to pull out a old yellowed notebook he'd ransacked from where, using a stick of charcoal to quickly scribble down a sentence before shoving it at Johnny.

That woman smells strange. 

Johnny frowned at the delicate script before giving Diego an uncertain look, "You mean the singer?"

Diego nodded, tapping a claw on the word 'strange' while flaring his nostrils. When he flicked out a tongue to lick at his fangs Johnny could see his tongue was stained blue from the Quantum he'd been drinking. Johnny thought back to his conversation with the singer, with her shiny black hair that fell to her pale shoulders, red curves of her lips and her half lidded eyes with long dark lashes. Shaking that off, Johnny tried to think if he'd caught a strange odour from the woman but there had only been the mustiness of the subway, cigarette smoke and spirits.

The smell when that slaver woman tried to shoot me with the plasma pistol back in the waste. A whiff of something sharp. Metallic, almost. A tang. That woman in the red dress. 

"That's...rather vague," Johnny said to which Diego just shrugged

The Deathclaw went back to his drink and Johnny decided to follow suit. The whisky burned his throat in a comforting way, Johnny leaning back on his chair as he nursed the bottle. Watching the people mingle at the bar was interesting even if it gave him a massive dose of bittersweet nostalgia. Quite a few kept glancing over at them however, Johnny having to keep reminding himself it was because of Diego. He'd gotten used somewhat to his large scaly companion and a possessive part of him bristled at the fear and suspicion directed towards Diego. Or it could just be him grating at the sensation of so many eyes on him, used to that feeling meaning something was about to try and eat him.

Trying to push away the tide of morbid thoughts Johnny took another swig from his bottle, eyes sliding shut as the warmth of the liquor burned in his stomach. The woman's singing and the warmth and darkness of the bar made him drowsy, swaying back and forth in his seat with the rhythm of her song.

He nearly fell asleep like that, slumping against Diego's side with the whisky bottle nearly dropping from his hand. At that point Diego shook him away, having to grab Johnny's bottle to avoid it shattering on the ground as he jolted awake. Looking around groggily showed the bar was nearly empty; the Mister Handy was still there but the patrons from before including the singer were gone.

Diego gave him a sharp look and Johnny waved off his glare, stumbling to his feet and saying, "Alright fine, let's go find that hotel alright? Stop giving me the stink eye."

Leaving the Third Rail, however, revealed that the town was in the grip of a massive radiation storm. Thick, green tinted clouds hung overhead as rain poured down onto the streets. A flare of lightning lit up everything in sharp detail, his Pip-Boy cackling ominously on his wrist to warn him of radiation exposure. Johnny cursed, Diego's head hanging over his shoulder as they squinted through the thick sheets of water pouring from the sky.

"That hotel was over there, right?" Johnny asked, trying to see the letters on the nearby building. The heaviness of the rain make it difficult to see even a foot into the downpour.

Diego gave a grunt before nodding his horned head as he pointed. At the same time another line of lightning made everything stark with light, showing the front of the building and the crimson letters of _The Hotel Rexford_ show up amid the pouring rain. Johnny clenched his teeth as his Pip-Boy chirped again, not enjoying the prospect of getting soaked but having no alternative. Sucking in a breath he darted out into the rain, shivering at the slap of cold against his exposed arms. He nearly slipped on the wet concrete of the street, Diego's clawed hand effortlessly pulling back upright as the Deathclaw partially carried him to the front of the ancient hotel.

Even the quick dunk in the water leeched the heat from his limbs, Johnny pulling himself away from Diego's scaly chest to paw at the double doors before yanking them open and stumbling inside. Shutting the door- and making sure Diego's tail was past it -he fought over a shiver and gave a brief glance around the large foyer of the hotel with the old welcome desk at the end with two people standing around it.

He could hear the two people at the counter arguing, but he ignored it in favour of scrubbing the rain off his face and wringing his wet fringe. Diego sneezed next to him, the noise overly loud in the hotel and stopping the conversation of the two people at the welcome desk. The one in the foyer turned and left out the side door while the other remained leaning against the desk as if they were the clerk. To the side was a woman, sweeping the floor with bored repetitious movements but she froze when she spotted Diego

Shaking himself off one more time Johnny then walked across the foyer, the hotel near silent and dingy compared to the ones he remembered Pre-War. Still, the foyer was tall and open with a few cushioned couches dotted around the area. The main lighting was from the ones hanging in the foyer and even through it Johnny could see the lingering cloud of dust and motes floating through the stale air.

"Huh, you know when Fred told me a Vaultie had been spotted in town with a tame Deathclaw I thought he'd taken too hard a hit of the Jet," the woman said, eyeing them as they drew up against the counter. Her skin was the colour of dried leather, thick with wrinkles and short hair snow white. Despite her age her dark brown eyes were quick and sharp as she looked them both over. 

Diego bared his teeth at her but otherwise didn't react. Johnny fought off the urge to yawn, slightly tipsy from his whisky drinking and now just wanting to find something remotely bed-like to fall into.

"He's not a pet," Johnny finally said.

"Looks pretty tame to me, following you about and not mauling anyone to death," the woman countered, gaze fixed on Diego, "Been working in this hotel for forty years now but I remembering my days traveling. Remember how Deathclaws were the baddest things you could run across. On their lonesome one could tear a caravan to shreds and take off a head with a single swipe. An entire nest of 'em? I've seen them wipe out Brotherhood patrols with all their fancy armour and guns."

"He's not a pet," he repeated.

"Huh," she didn't sound convinced, "Never seen a blue one before. Only really notice when it's in the light, kinda dark. Seen those chameleon ones that change all sorts of colours they want but not a blue one."

Diego exhaled, the breath overly slow and whistling slightly through his fangs. Johnny grimaced, swaying on his feet before snapping, "Look, got any rooms or what?"

"We have rooms. One room specifically. Payment up front, ten caps," she said, not even blinking at the abrupt demand.

Johnny frowned; that was a lot more reasonably priced than he expected. Then again he guessed a lot of patrons to the hotel were travelers so the roll over must be fairly quick. Still, it was cheaper than he thought despite the fact he was nearly broke. Rummaging around his pockets he managed to fish out the requested amount while Diego and the clerk had a staring contest.

"The room is on the top floor," she said briskly after he placed the final one down, sweeping the caps off the counter and into her waiting hand with a practiced motion, "When you come to the hallway it's the last one on the right."

He barely waited for her to finish, turning and stomping off in the direction while yawning again. The cleaner tensed when Johnny and Diego walked past, clutching her broom to her chest as she skittered out of the way with her panicked eyes locked onto Diego who ignored her as he followed Johnny through the doorway and up the stairs until they found the room. The door was scratched and the numbers entirely faded, with the hinges screeching as he opened the door with Diego breathing down his neck.

It was a fairly large room, with a small living area and broken kitchen before opening to the bedroom with an attached, useless bathroom that looked as if a grenade had gone off inside. Tired, he ignored that to amble over to the bedroom and peered around at the few cabinets against the wall and the bed. The bed was king sized and covered in an assortment of blankets, including some which looked like animal hide but there were some very normal looking pillows. At least there were enough blankets piled on the bed it would kinda be warm even if Johnny really missed thick cotton and maybe silk. Even as he thought that the window flared with another bolt of lightning but indoors meant his geiger counter didn't warn him of radiation exposure so he was safe from the effects of the storm at least. 

Johnny swallowed down his unreasonable disappointment at the state of room; he'd always been used to fairly lavish hotels in his travels so the peeling walls and dusty floors wasn't really what he wanted. Ignoring that he pulled off his backpack and resting it against the leg of the bed. Next to him Diego untied his Vault suit and twin satchels, settling them against the wall next to the bed as Johnny untied his boots and grunted as he tugged his feet free before tossing them next to his backpack. The rifle was slung across it jostled at the movement and he paused before crouching to run his fingers along the butt of the gun. A part of him felt oddly eager to use the weapon even if his pistol was more familiar. After a moment of dithering he unstrapped the holster holding his pistol, putting it down next to his bag along with his knife.

Then a loud creaking noise distracted him, Johnny frowning at Diego as the Deathclaw climbed onto the bed. It creaked ominously but didn't buckle under the weight as Diego moved in a couple of circles much like a dog before he settled down on top of the blankets.

"Really?" Johnny said irritably. Diego just rested his head on one of the pillows and shut his eyes.

Resigning himself to having to share a bed with a giant scaly lizard man, Johnny stripped down to his underwear after a moment of dithering, figuring modesty didn't really mean much around Diego since he technically walked around mostly naked anyway. He shivered as his exposed skin cooled quickly, rubbing at the exposed implant at the small of his back. It was warm against his fingers, even as his damp red hair dripped a few droplets onto his bare shoulders.

"Move over," Johnny said as he turned back to the bed, shoving at Diego's horn. 

The Deathclaw snorted but moved his tail out of the way; even with it being a king Diego took up most of the space despite being pressed against the wall and Johnny had to yank at the blankets to clamber under them. The fabric scratched his skin, ribs and side still covered in fading bruises and small scabbed scratches clinging to his flesh as he snuggled underneath the covers. But on the whole, despite all the horribleness of the post apocalypse he was still largely whole.

Diego's breathing was heavy in his ear but Johnny was watching the window on the opposite side of the room, with the rain still beating against the glass with a green tinge still clinging to the dark clouds outside.

"We'll travel to Diamond City tomorrow," Johnny said, yawning widely before he continued, "Though we're still broke and need clean water. Guess we can just rob someone like you suggested before."

The bed shuddered as Diego laughed, his breath ruffling Johnny's red hair. 

"Oh and I guess maybe we should keep an eye on the door in case _we're_ the ones robbed," Johnny added sleepily, trying to look in the direction of the door but not able to muster up the energy to open his eyes.

Diego reached across him to make a motion in the direction of the door but Johnny was already asleep.

* * *


	19. Deathclaw

* * *

Johnny woke up to find himself partially squashed underneath Diego. At some point he'd rolled underneath Diego and was currently tucked between his arm and side. It was very warm but very cramped and Johnny had to smack at Diego's sternum several times before the Deathclaw finally yawned and clambered off of him. Johnny scrubbed at the mess his red hair had become, tugging at the tangles as he yawned as well before stumbling off the bed. 

He checked his Pip-Boy, rather alarmed to see it was nearly noon. He'd slept a lot longer then he intended, making him a bit groggy and there was an annoyed twinge in his left knee that'd probably bite him later on. Then a soda bottle filled with clear water was shoved in his face by a scaled hand, Johnny jolting backwards slightly at the proximity.

"Where'd you get that?" Johnny said suspiciously, taking the bottle carefully. Diego just bared his teeth at him so he shrugged, deciding to not look a gift horse in the mouth. Purified water was rare anyway, so however Diego got it when they were pretty much broke Johnny was sure he didn't want to know.

After getting dressed he started going through their supplies while he drank the bottle of water, which left him feeling vaguely bloated but refreshed. He really hoped for a bath but would guess the water provided would be irradiated and browned. _Hopefully this 'Diamond City' will be more upscale compared to this zombie town._ Regardless Johnny made a quick stock of their inventory; there were still some pottles left of that salient green, a ridiculous amount of Nuka-Cola, ammunition for Johnny's two guns- his new rifle and pistol -and the combat knife he kept clipped to his belt, some junk that Diego had collected, the fusion core, old magazines, some tightly rolled semi-clean rolls, the half filled whisky bottle, the syringe of Med-X and the inhaler he _still_ wasn't sure it was filled with, a handful of caps, and a couple of empty syringes. The empty bottles of Nuka Cola Diego had been somehow hoarding were all filled with purified water and he was suspicious of where Diego had gotten it. He'd probably gone off on his own during the night or something, considering he slept a lot less than Johnny. 

_Whatever,_ Johnny thought, stuffing everything back in the bags and wrapping his pistol holster back around his thigh. The rifle he kept slung across his backpack, arranged in such a way he could grab the butt over his shoulder and pull it out easily enough. After a brief pause he also checked his two guns to make sure they were loaded.

Diego meanwhile had already strapped his Vault suit back against his chest. There was a weird weight in it which Johnny squinted at before guessing Diego had stuffed a plate of Vault security chest armour into the suit when he'd gotten it back at his Vault. Made sense, considering how everyone seemed to have guns in a post-nuclear landscape.

With a grunt Johnny got back to his feet, pulling his beanie over his messy red hair before yawning again. A quick glance out the filthy window showed at least the storm was long go and it _was_ sunny. Or it could just be the grime showing the town's lights, he wasn't sure.

He checked his Pip-Boy again, turning the dial until he got to the map. From the distance he'd guess it wouldn't take them too long to reach Diamond City before nightfall. He added an extra few hours on the assumption they wouldn't be able to just walk there without running into some kind of trouble. Especially with those giant humans, or 'Super Mutants', wandering around out there. There was also the issue with their lack of money for traveling to Diamond City for supplies wouldn't do much if they couldn't buy anything.

"I suppose it's time to talk to that mayor, ask for if there are any jobs around here," Johnny grumbled. He didn't really want to, Hancock's rotten features disturbing him greatly.

Diego grunted but rubbed his fingers together to which Johnny grimaced; the Deathclaw was right, they needed money. Or caps. True they could just steal things but Johnny was fairly loathed at the idea of just killing people to get things. Perhaps it was just his Pre-War morality getting in the way but as it was he was content at the time being for Diego to kill humans while he dealt with wild animals and zombies. Still, they needed money and probably the easiest and quickest way to find a job would be speaking to the mayor. He also didn't seem overly bothered with Diego, referring to them both as 'guests' so potentially Hancock would be helpful.

Leaving the Hotel showed it was still manned by a skeleton crew, with the clerk from the previous night still keeping vigil over the front desk. She was once again arguing with the man though this time Johnny caught the gist of the rowing which seemed to be based on the man being a drug addict along with being a brewer. Considering the guns everywhere Johnny guessed being an addict as well wouldn't be a good combination. 

Goodneighbour was awake and bustling when he stepped out onto the streets, squinting at the sunlight. As before the street was lined with stalls and people haggling over prices, and as before the conversation lulled as eyes turned towards Diego's scaly form. Johnny ignored it like last time, walking over the cracked asphalt while rolling his shoulders. As he walked by the stage he realized there was a weird glowing zombie locked up in the cage on the far end, Johnny frowning at the hissing thing as he walked by; he guessed that was a 'Glowing One' that Daisy mentioned before. 

He wasn't really looking forward to finding out the different variants of zombies, especially since there seemed to be a lot of them in the city. Though it made some horrible sense since it seemed they were severely irradiated humans like Ferdinand had become.

Brooding over the issue helped him ignoring the pointing and words of the inhabitants of the town, even if Diego was the main focus of where he was following at Johnny's heels. Eventually he was down the alleyway which had the elaborate door to what seemed to pass for the mayor's office. Like before the zombie's with suits and tommy guns were inside but this time Johnny shoved down his nervousness, especially since none of them told him to get out. There was a lot of tensing when Diego followed, nose butting against Johnny's shoulder blades. 

He dithered, unsure if he should ask for directions from the nearest guard as to where the mayor was when Diego walked past him and started to climb the staircase reaching up the centre of the foyer. After an unsure moment Johnny followed, figuring Diego had smelled the mayor or something. He hated stairs though, grimacing as his knees and ankles ached while he started to climb it. 

By the time he reached the upper floor his legs were feeling tingly and his lower back had a very mild throb beginning in it. Diego just watched patiently until Johnny walked onto the landing, resisting the urge to curse. Sucking in a breath, he followed Diego through a door at the side and ignored the zombie guard standing next to the stairwell and his gun at the ready.

The room was large, dotted with desks piled with a chemical stations, food, chems and miscellaneous junk. A raggy lounge suite was sit up in the middle of the room that probably used to be a shade of green. A woman with a partially shaved scalp and stringy orange hair jumped to her feet from where she'd been lounging on the couch, hand flying to the gun at her hip. On the far end of the room the mayor, Hancock, turned around from the chemical station with his knife half way out of his tattered red overcoat.

"Huh, so Hancock wasn't out of his mind on Jet when he said there was a lil' Vaultie here with a pet Deathclaw," the woman finally said after a tense silence, eyes cold and calculating as she studied them. Diego growled lowly.

 _A body guard or something?_ Johnny wasn't sure, especially since Hancock seemed to be able to handle himself. A hard nudge from Diego's snout and he stumbled forward, glaring at the Deathclaw over his shoulder who just shrugged.

"Too bad about Finn," Hancock said as a greeting as Johnny approached, a lit cigarette dangling between his gnarled fingers, "Gonna miss him when the next Super Mutant attack rolls 'round. Oh well, what can I do for our newcomer?"

"I'm here about work," Johnny said stiffly. He had to resist the urge to twiddle his thumbs or shifting in place. Diego at least was keeping an eye on the hostile-looking woman. In a confined room he'd probably be able to bite her head off easily enough.

"Work huh?" Hancock paused to take a drag on his cigarette, a few wisps of smoke curling through the exposes tendons of his cheekbones before he said, "I'll tell you what, I've got a reconnaissance need. There's a lot of weird talk coming in about a place called the Handyman's gallery. It's Raider territory up there but they've been quiet. Like uncomfortable post-coitus quiet? Snoop it out and give me the word."

It sounded easy enough even if Johnny was leery about the idea of Raiders. Probably just a more hostile form of slavers, just without the selling part. Still, they needed money to do anything so he nodded, saying, "Scout out the Handyman's gallery, got it."

Hancock made a pleased noise, "Cool, be thorough okay? I'm not paying for a looksee. Find out what's really going on down there."

* * *

Johnny went left after leaving Goodneighbour; at least that was he would be able to avoid the 'Super Mutants' and it was the quickest routes to Diamond City. They had the plan of going to Diamond City first so at least they'll have a more specific map of it and then go track down the 'Handyman's gallery' since it seemed the rumours placed the location a little north-west of the city. He also had over ten caps left which if Diamond City was like Goodneighbour they could have a secure sleep before tracking down the gallery. Killing two birds with one stone in a way and frankly Johnny was curious about the biggest settlement in the waste. He mused on it aloud until he'd traveled an entire block only to realize Diego had completely vanished from his side. He stopped, squinting in the morning sun as he tried to spot Diego's scaled form to no avail.

"Where the hell did you go?" He asked loudly, flinching as his voice bounced down the empty street. The lack of people was disconcerting after the bustle of Goodneighbour but Johnny guessed it was too dangerous to simply loiter around in the open. He edged towards the buildings to get out of the middle of the street, unsure of where Diego had vanished to. He was pretty sure Diego had been right behind him when he'd left Goodneighbour since the Deathclaw had a habit of breathing down his neck.

 _Still, where the hell did Diego go? He was right here,_ Johnny thought, looking around in confusion. For all of Diego's size he was surprisingly sneaky and he was pretty sure Diego also had some weird camouflage abilities. That or he had hallucinated it while in the slaver cage, that was also a possibility. But Ferdinand's notes had mentioned Deathclaws were mutated chameleons. 

Rather than wandering off Johnny sat on the bonnet of a rusted car near the street corner. His hips ached faintly from the stairs but at least the tingling had mostly vanished. He leaned back on his hands, staring up at the sky; it was still blue, despite all the ruined buildings and broken humanity left behind. He wondered how it had looked just after the bombs detonated, remembering how everything seemed to turn gold and crimson when he saw that monstrous mushroom cloud bloom on the horizon before getting into Vault 111.

A rubbish bin suddenly went crashing by the corner to go rolling into the street as the bang of it colliding with an upturned slab of concrete made him start violently, jumping off the car and landing awkwardly on the asphalt. The battered bin rolled a few feet before getting wedged in a crack, the noise overly loud and making his frayed nerves twitch.

"It's just a bin, calm down," Johnny breathed, fingers clenching into his sides slightly.

Then a loud _sniff_ caused him to slowly look away from the rubbish bin to the corner of the building where a scaly horned face was peering at him with nostrils flaring. With a grunt the Deathclaw rounded the corner, head weaving from side to side with more sniffing.

"Oh for Gods sake Diego, it's just you-" Johnny cut himself with a strangled squeak, realizing that the thing was not, in fact, Diego. It was a great deal bigger for one and had dark green scales covering its hide. It also lacked Diego's human eyes, instead its own being a sour yellow like some kind of monster from a comic book.

It stared at him for a long moment before suddenly rearing backwards and bellowing so loudly it caused Johnny to recoil. Then the thing lunged for him, huge clawed hands outstretched to impale him. Johnny turned and ran, stumbling over the ruins and sprinting around the corner of the building. The thing- _Deathclaw_ -was right behind him, sucking in thick snorting breaths and footsteps thundering on the cracked pavement in immediate pursuit.

Running down the street in a straight line was a terrible idea, which he instantly realized, and he ducked into the nearest doorway that wasn't boarded up and a split second later two huge horns slammed into the frame, nearly bursting it open. However he wasn't fast enough to avoid the sharp claws, one of which racked a burning line across his forearm. With a muffled yelp he hit the hallway wall and bounced off, nearly tripping over.

Outside the Deathclaw crouched down on all fours and began to wedge itself through the doorway, the frame groaning at the strain. Ignoring the gash oozing blood down his arm he ran as fast as his legs would carry him just as the Deathclaw squirmed its way fully into the building.

It turned into an ugly game of cat and mouse; the Deathclaw's sheer size meant it found difficult to twist around and get through the doorways and narrow hall. However the walls had rotted with countless holes, snorting in breath as it tried to track him while he tried to find a way to sneak back out of the house as quietly as possible. At least it had been slowed down by the entry and wall, having lost visual track of him. However it was stalking around the ruined house, taking in heavy grunts and grumbles as it searched

 _How smart is this thing? Is it smart like Diego?_ Johnny crouched down against the flight of stairs, trying to breathe as softly as possible even as his body trembled from fear-induced adrenaline. The tail of the Deathclaw was sliding past into the burnt out kitchen, Johnny inching around the staircase base with jittery movements towards the front door.

Then he had to slip into the living room, as the Deathclaw turned around and stuck its head out into the hallway with a deep huff. He pressed himself up against the wall, listening intently to its heavy footsteps as it tried to hunt him down. He remained still even if he cursed silently, feeling the telltale tingle in the small of his back; his leg were going to give out soon and if that happened he'd be a sitting duck. _Fucking stairs._

His hands were shaking but he didn't bother trying to grab his rifle; Diego had shrugged off gunfire from those slavers with barely a scratch and his bullets weren't armour piercing. He should've brought that damn rocket launcher. Even if he blew himself up it seemed preferable to being eaten alive by a giant dragonesque monster.

He could still easily recall how Diego had mauled that woman slaver to death with his claws and teeth until she had been a bloodied mass. Trying to shake off the gory image along with ignoring the way his leg muscles started to cramp, he knew staying in the house with a bleeding arm was a death sentence; as it was it seemed the disturbed dust was being a sufficiency smoke screen but as soon as it settled the thing would find him.

Creeping along he could hear the Deathclaw's loud breathing and the occasional grunt as it shifted, even if he couldn't see it. As he eased up from his crouch his leg leg was starting to seize, making him clench his jaw as he shuffled across the living room to reach the door to the hallway. The front door was only a few feet down and if he-

The roar of the Deathclaw as it spotted him at the opposite doorway of the living room caused him to bolt, a ripple of pain radiating up his spine as he grabbed the door frame and leapt right for the front door with the Deathclaw charging after him. It had to partially claw its way on all fours, its spiked back gouging the ceiling just as Johnny cleared the doorway and tripped down the front stairs to land painfully on the street, slicing open his cheek and grazing his hands. He scrabbled back to his feet, breath rapid as he stumbled forward as his left leg seized up just as the Deathclaw lunged through the doorway.

Then Diego was there, grabbing Johnny roughly by his throat and shoving the panicking redhead behind him. Diego twisted and snapped at the other Deathclaw, teeth nearly sinking into the yellowed scales of its throat as it landed on the street with a cloud of dust. It stumbled to the side, hissing viciously as it turned to face Diego fully, before it suddenly clamped its jaw shut and retreated several steps with its clawed hands flexing. Johnny clung to the spikes jutting fro Diego's back, his left leg useless while his right was twitching sporadically as the muscles seized and relaxed.

He probably would've tried pulling free his pistol or rifle but his mind was firmly stuck on _flight_ even as his sweaty fingers clenched around Diego as blood oozed sluggishly from his cuts. Diego snarled and snapped at the other Deathclaw again, partially crouched to protect his throat while he growled in preparation for a fight.

Instead the Deathclaw backed up and just hunkered down, making no motion to physically attack Diego. Johnny slowly regained control over his breathing, even if his heart fluttered in his chest as he tentatively peeked over Diego's back to eye the other Deathclaw several feet away.

This close Johnny came to the fairly unerring realization that Diego was quite _small_ for a Deathclaw, even if Johnny barely reached his sternum. The moss-green one was immense and could probably bite Johnny's head right off in a single snap and it stood at over eight feet tall even with its hunched posture.

Several times the Deathclaw tried to circle around Diego to have a attack Johnny but each time Diego would snap at it or swipe a taloned hand at its face while snarling. Rather than attack it would back off before creeping around his side again. The lack of violence on its half confused Johnny immensely even if he kept himself as quiet as possible, pressed against Diego's scaly side.

Eventually Diego had to yank hard on his arm before Johnny got the sense of mind to move, muscles in his shins tingling painfully with pins and needles while the gashes on his arm and face oozed blood. He was mostly hanging off Diego as he walked down the street, not fully turning his back to the Deathclaw but nonetheless moving since it wasn't hostile. The other Deathclaw followed them for two blocks, lumbering behind them at a leisurely pace as if made low huffing noises. Johnny was half squashed against Diego but he really wasn't complaining, peeking around Diego every few seconds as the moss-green creature paced after them.

At the end of the two blocks it stopped even as Diego kept walking, Johnny's nails digging into Diego's spikes as his jaw ached from how hard he was clenching his teeth. Johnny had no idea what was happening but kept himself silent as the Deathclaw gazed after them.

After another moment of staring the Deathclaw huffed lowly and turned away, walking back down the street. Even so Johnny kept himself pressed tight against Diego, the taste of blood trickling into his mouth as the cut on his cheek oozed blood down his lips and chin.

"What the fuck was that?" Johnny finally managed to say, voice raspy and shaking. Diego just shrugged.

 

* * *


	20. Disneyfication

* * *

Due to their lackluster medical supplies Diego ended up breaking into a nearby store to get makeshift supplies for Johnny's injuries. The cut on his arm was the worse, the wild Deathclaw's talon slicing through his flesh with sickening ease and was still spilling blood down his arm. His shaking was bad enough- and legs were still inert -that he didn't protest when Diego dragged him into the store and set him up on a dusty old chair before fussing about.

Johnny still had his whisky, Diego sloshing it over his bleeding wounds and making him hiss with pain but he had no idea what type of infections a Deathclaw would have so he didn't protest. He was also fairly sure he was in shock, heart hammering in his chest and cold sweat soaking his body. His legs were entirely numb and unresponsive and Johnny swayed back in his chair as he struggled to slow his breathing down.

Behind him Diego was ransacking the store, which seemed to be an old clothing shop. He clawed through several rotting coats before going into the back and several minutes later reappearing with an immaculate dress that looked as if it had been taken right out of a catalogue. Probably locked in a safe, which protected it from the fallout. Quickly cleaning his talons with the liquor Diego shredded the dress and packing the fabric against Johnny's forearm and then used duct tape to strap it into place. He did the same for the cut on Johnny's cheek and a smaller scrap for the palm of his right hand that was deeper.

It felt nice to be fussed over though, even if the person in question was a giant mutant lizard. Speaking of which...

"Why didn't the Deathclaw attack you?" Johnny asked, voice raspy as he stared at the makeshift band aid on his hand.

Diego paused in tying up Johnny's wrist, looking up at Johnny with his bright blue eyes before shrugging. Clearly he didn't know why the wild Deathclaw wasn't hostile towards him either. Johnny frowned, scratching at his neck with a shaking hand as he inhaled deeply. They probably wouldn't know why the Deathclaw wouldn't attack Diego but as long as it meant other Deathclaws would leave them alone Johnny wasn't going to press it.

There was also the lingering shame that his first reaction to seeing the wild Deathclaw but at the same time Johnny had just felt such overwhelming primal fear at the sight of the giant monster. Back before the War the only creatures that were a threat would be badly behaved dogs or some annoyed horses. Slow Dancer, his old mare, had bucked him off a few times but that was it. There hadn't been mutated animals waiting to maul them to death at a moments notice, no giant mole rats trying to rip off limbs or packs of irradiated dogs or gigantic eight foot tall monstrous lizard things with claws longer than his finger.

Johnny gave a grunt as pins and needles began to swarm up his legs as the feeling returned to them. The muscles shook painfully, making his hands clench and body shiver. Diego eyed him before exploring the rest of the shop, rummaging around the front counter and dragging out various bits of junk to sort through while Johnny remained on the chair.

By the time Johnny's legs were fully functional he'd bitten the inside of his cheek from trying to hold back whines of pain. He was used to his legs seizing but in this instance it was uniquely painful. It was bad enough he finally used the last vial of Med-X on himself, Diego grumbling but not stopping him from injecting the painkiller into him though Johnny knew he'd be sore for a few days. _Great, and my bruises from Ferdinand still hadn't healed._ Johnny just had to resign himself to aches and pains for probably most of the future. Stimpacks seemed to be a great rarity in the Post-War landscape though Diamond City should have some along with a doctor.

Hopefully.

* * *

It was nearly twenty minutes before they moved on, Johnny sliding off the chair and rubbing at his shins while monitoring his movement while Diego drag half a dozen bottles of Nuka-Cola. He took the rest of the dress, stuffing it in his backpack as he figured it would do as more makeshift bandages if he got injured again which was highly likely before poking his head outside to the destroyed streets outside.

Boston looked as terrible as ever but there was no sign of anything alive so he hobbled out of the shop with Diego lumbering after him. This time Diego stuck close to him, probably half convinced Johnny was going to keel over which was fairly understandable as he felt like complete garbage or at least suffering from the worst bender in his life. At his current rate Johnny wouldn't mind getting drunk but for now the Med-X was doing a wonderful job of keeping his pain to a minimum.

There was no signs of life even if they occasionally heard gunshots and explosions echoing through the streets but they managed to walk several blocks unopposed. At the eighth they were accosted by a pack of rabid dogs, furless and red skinned. Johnny shot two with his pistol while Diego mauled several others. He switched to his rifle to try pick off the stragglers that went running off down the street but missed fairly badly with the bullets pinging off asphalt and concrete a few feet from the fleeing dogs.

"Shit," he muttered as the dogs rounded the corner and were lost from sight. The rifled packed a lot harder recoil than the pistol for obvious reasons and it threw his aim right off compared with the pistol. He grimaced, ignoring Diego's huffing laughter as he shouldered the rifle back while resisting the urge to yell at the Deathclaw.

Stepping gingerly around the dogs bloodied bodies he checked his Pip-Boy with the map, assured they were traveling in the right direction. Especially since a lot of the streets were blocked or took some time to navigate over the collapsed train bridges or slumped buildings which forced them to climb through the rubble and jutting rebars. On several different occasions he had to hang onto Diego and be pulled or partially carried. It would've rankled his pride if the Med-X didn't keep him so blissed out and numb.

As they were walking past a caved in subway station and through another block something caught his eye at one of the corner stores and he quickly changed directions towards it.

He swatted a hand on Diego's scaly shoulder, the Deathclaw giving a grunt as Johnny pointed to a boarded up storefront, "Look at that sign there, on the building at the top."

The store took up the entire corner, the building still in fairly good condition with sloping angles and faded paint. All the windows had been boarded up as well and there was a Pulowski Preservation shelter out front that, when Johnny switched the tube open, had a crumbled skeleton inside. No doubt someone trying to survive the bombing by using the one-person shelter. Didn't seem to have done much but after a moment Johnny stepped past to go the building's boarded up front door and then looked up at the words etched in looping lines in the faded wood.

Boston Branch of Disney Consumer Products and Interactive Media and Research

"That girl, Lucy. You know, the one who was caught by the slavers with me? She mentioned something about the slavers having a base at 'Disney'. I know the big ass park is way up north but-"

Diego tore down the boards across the door, making Johnny hop backwards to avoid being hit with the planks.

"Alright so we're just going in," Johnny grumbled, watching as Diego clawed off all the boards before getting to the doors. His claws sank into the old wood, probably used over two centuries ago, and the dust made Johnny cover his nose before he sneezed.

Inside the building was remarkably untouched, if not dark and dusty. Still, he recognized a lot of the characters plastered along the walls with bright peeling smiles and there was matching decorations around the front counter and vending machines. He ended up using the butt of his rifle to smash in the glass of one, taking a few Nuka-Colas and drinking one. The sugar helped, even if it was overly syrupy for his taste. Pity most of the food in the machine was _long_ past its due by date but he did take the three boxes of Fancy Lad's Snack Cakes. Those things could last.

In the front counter however Diego found a Stimpack in one of the bottom drawers which he immediately gave to Johnny who wasted no time in using it. It was no where near enough to heal his scraps and bruises but it would speed up the healing of his open wounds and hopefully seal them. He kept on the makeshift bandages though, as even if the wounds healed somewhat it probably wouldn't take a lot to split them back open. He wanted several more Stimpacks and maybe a soft bed but that would have to wait until Diamond City.

Even so he thanked Diego, feeling awkward. Diego just patted him on the head as if he were a dog which immediately evaporated Johnny's good will towards the Deathclaw, slapping aside the scaly paw.

Searching the nearby room revealed a lot of mannequins with moth eaten dressed hanging from their shapeless bodies. There was a weird machine in the corner, probably some kind of fabric press Johnny really wasn't sure, and numerous tables with inert computers and consoles. There wasn't much in the room besides junk, but he did find a handful of bottle caps in the drawer at the back which he stuffed in his pants pocket.

Then the _click click click_ of claws on a hard floor echoed through the building, making both Johnny and Diego tense. Johnny unslung the rifle from his back, the room big enough he could maneuver easily, while Diego crept across the ground to lurk near the doorway in preparation of a stealth attack. His scaly nostrils flared while Johnny shuffled behind a table, unsure of his grip on the rifle beyond the basics as the noise grew louder.

 _Too light to be a Deathclaw,_ Johnny thought. Not to mention Diego was close and he seemed to have some weird kinship with the giant lizards.

He spotted it first, a soft light as a shadowy form walked down the hallway with easy movements. Small, four legged. Familiar.

"Wait Diego, it's just a cyberhound," Johnny watched the dog trot through the doorway, furry tail wagging. He remembered hearing about cyberhounds being used in the military and police before the War, dogs which were a mixture of robotics and organics. They were a great deal more intelligent than their non-augmented counterparts and Johnny remembered there also being a great deal of moral debate about enhancing dogs and making them cyborgs.

The dog that stopped a few feet in front of him was one such beast, its body from the ribcage down fully replaced with machinery aside from its furry tail. Otherwise its hind legs were lean metal with more running along its spine up to the base of its skull. Its left front leg was also mechanical, the mechanism hissing slightly as the dog danced about excitedly before him. Its lower jaw was metal as was its skull; the bullet proof, translucent glass showing its organic brain suspended in light green fluid. They were boasted to be essentially immortal- if one replaced their brains periodically a cyberhound was stated to be able to live for as long as possible. Their original brains were stated to have at the least a two hundred year life span so for all Johnny knew the dog had been active at the same time he was around.

Johnny reached out to the cyberhound, which immediately sniffed at his fingers with a wet nose before laving it with a warm slimy tongue. He was fairly sure it used to be a German Shepard, with the rough black and tan coat but most of its body was machine.

Diego was very fascinated by the cyberhound, snuffling at it and running the tips of long claws across its cybernetic spine. The dog didn't seem to mind his scrutiny, tail wagging as the Deathclaw circled it. The floating brain swayed slightly in the translucent green fluid as the cyberhound titled back its head to look at Diego while Johnny scratched at its furry throat. There was a strange collar around it- her's -neck, powder blue with colourful strips in the middle and a strange knob latch at the centre of the collar which, when Johnny peered closer, looked like a dial.

"Who do you belong to, girl?" Johnny never considered himself a dog person before but he felt a fairly abnormal amount of affection and glee at the cyberhound's presence. It was just normal, familiar. He had seen enough reports on the war and even a few cyberhounds following police whenever he was in Boston before the bombs fell for them to be familiar for him. Even if they found the old cyberhound in the dilapidated remains of a deserted Disney business building.

"I currently belong to the Disney Company, and am used as a friendly guide for this facility! You may call me Lilian," The dog told him cheerfully.

Johnny froze, half bent down with his fingers buried in the dog's furry neck. Its eyes were an icy blue, like a Husky.

"Um. Did you talk?"

"Yes, I did! I am equipped with a Disney patented Talk-O-Matic translation collar."

The colourful strips in the middle of the blue collar lit up with the dog's speech, like the audio pulse on a radio to coincide with the dog's speech and pitch. Johnny reached out a hand to touch the dial but the dog backed away, shaking her head.

"Please refrain from touching the collar unless you are an authorized Disney employee," the dog scolded him. Her voice was was slightly robotic but not to the extent of a automatron like Kleo or a Protectron. Instead it sounded very human, with a accent that reminded him of some of the women at a farmer's market back in Kentucky. Just that thick, husky tone to it. He half expected her to offer him her best apple pie recipe and baking advice.

Instead the dog turned to look at Diego, tongue lolling, as she said, "You are currently in a restricted area. Please follow me if you wish to continue the new employee tour!"

Johnny and Diego exchanged looks, to which the Deathclaw tipped his horned head in the dog's direction in a _Why not_ gesture so Johnny hefted his rifle back across his backpack before they followed the dog's wagging tail as she led them from the room.

Most of the facts she rattled off to them as she led them through the hall was basic things; the date the company was founded, the CEO and current aspiration of the company. She didn't seem too bothered that nuclear annihilation had caused Disney's animation Renaissance to stall, instead cheerfully stating she felt like the company 'would bounce back any day now!' Diego paid far more attention to the dog but considering Johnny had lived in the Pre-War time when Disney was flooding the movie theaters with their animated features it was understandable the Deathclaw was more interested in the talking dog.

They did pass a room with a burnt out door that was completely filled with dead cyberhounds, the bodies stacked nearly to the ceiling like a makeshift cliff. The room didn't smell, weirdly enough, but Johnny couldn't help but grimace at the sight as they walked past.

"Hey, Lilian," Johnny called out, cutting off the dog's chattering about how great Disney was as a man. She wagged her tail so he took that as the go ahead to ask, "What's with the collar, anyway?

"The company believed in making every day life a little more magical, especially due to the imminent nuclear annihilation was causing stress in many people- employees or otherwise. The use of the Talk-O-Matic translation collar was deemed important for moral and 'ahem' more military purposes to help fund the glorious war against the communistic red menace Chinese."

"Oh right. I remember reading all those lawsuits and shit. I'd forgotten."

Diego gave him an inquisitive look and Johnny shrugged, elaborating, "Disney started doing that shit so their animals and stuff would be more like their movies. They did lots of movies about princesses who could talk to animals or would have animal friends and stuff.vI think I read something about the military putting in a multi-million dollar contract for their military cyberhound division- like making them better scouts and shit. Spies and whatever. Lot more complaining about animal rights and stuff, but the government kinda stopped caring about that years ago. Stopped caring about a lot of things actually," he trailed off, eyeing the cyberhound which wagged her tail under his scrutiny.

"Any lawsuit issues should be brought up with human relations, thank you. Slander against the Disney company could result in lawsuit as well."

"Yeah sure. What even is this place?"

"This is one of the localized research divisions for Disney. As always, they are looking for innovations to improve everyone's lives. Unfortunately we are short staffed lately, so things are not quite up to the usual company standards! If you wish to write a complaint, please use the consoles provided," Lilian said, pointing a paw at the burnt computer self-help kiosks on the side of the room.

Johnny eyed the dog with her collar, how it lit up with her speech. Then his gaze shifted to Diego, who's attention was focused on the dog with extreme intensity. After a moment he asked, "Are the collars made here? Can you take us to...whatever it is that makes them? I dunno, a machine?"

There was a brief pause before the cyberhound nodded, turning from the room and down the hallway until they stopped at a reinforced door at the end. She reared back on her hind legs, pressing a paw against the scanner to which the doors then wooshed open. Following her inside, the doors promptly slammed shut as soon as Diego's tail across over the door frame with a bang.

"Please be aware you are in a restricted area," Lilian said in her cheerful voice, her colour pulsing with light, "To avoid being fatally shot, please answer these three questions. Due to being in the restricted area, you have consented to the terms of service written on the entry door which allow lethal force if you answer incorrectly."

"Wait what? You never-" Johnny backed into Diego's nose, only now noticing the several turrets affixed to the ceiling and trained on them. Diego snarled in his ear, either pissed off at the dog or Johnny he wasn't sure.

Lilian sat on the ground, just before the opposite door. Johnny went to take a step forward only for the turrets to give a warning beep and he froze. _Fuck._ He knew they were in a fairly terrible position; Diego would probably live on account of his scaly hide but Johnny would be torn to shreds in a second via a hail of bullets. He now wished he'd just kicked the dog away or something.

"Okay, what are the questions?" Johnny asked tersely, in lieu of violence. _Fucking dog._

She wagged her tail, metal lower jaw dropping open as her tongue lolled out. Her voice was still chipper, "Question One- in the Disney movie _Bambi_ what was the name of Bambi's rabbit friend?"

He blinked. "Thumper."

"Correct. Question Two- in the Disney movie _Dumbo_ what was the object that Timothy used to make Dumbo believe he could fly again?"

"A feather."

"Correct. Question Three- in the Disney movie _Snow White_ when the Huntsman presented the evil Queen with the heart in the chest and said it was Snow White's, what creature did the heart actually belong to?"

"A pig."

"Correct. Thank you for your cooperation! To prevent this test from taking place again, please make sure you bring your employee badge with you in the future. Failure to comply can result in a work place write up and funeral debt sent to your next of kin. Follow me," Lilian turned and stepped through the door with the click of claws and swish of her tail, the turrets shifting back into their neutral state. 

"What?" Johnny said defensively under Diego's incredulous stare as they followed, "There wasn't a lot to do in the hospital except lie around watching television all day, okay?"

Diego smacked him in the shoulder irritably, nearly knocking Johnny over and making him grunt with pain. Alright they probably shouldn't have followed the dog but now they were in the back room of the store which, as it turned out, had a working computing system set up next to a giant machine that took up the back wall. There was another door that led down to the water and power system, even if the lights next to the door showed that the place was working on meager back up power.

The dog settled down next to the machine and Johnny resisted the urge to kick her as she said, "And this is the Talk-O-Matic translation collar prototype! Tests have been successful and the company is hopeful for future business deals to further Disney's growth. After all, your happiness is our happiness!"

"Yeah shut up with the PR stunt, I don't care," Johnny snapped at the dog moodily. Maybe the Med-X was wearing off but being threatened never really endeared him to somebody.

He tried getting into the computer, only to find out it was locked. He'd never hacked one and even with Diego jostling him to the side and opening up the access screen Johnny was beyond confused by the screen filled with lines of weird text that was supposed to help them hack into it, so he stepped back and let Diego get into it.

Johnny thought hacking would be all fast paced and intense. Instead it was just him sitting on a chair and watching Diego typing every so often on the keyboard, studying long lines of numbers, symbols and letters that Johnny really didn't understand. It was probably only a minute but it felt so much longer before Diego got into the system. To his disappointment all that was available on the computer was an old company memo about a fishing trip and an error message about the machine lacking power due to a missing fusion core despite the materials being available. Other than that, there wasn't anything of interest.

However he looked at the dog, which was still sitting there placidly, and then back at Diego who looked irritated and bored.

"...We still have that fusion core right?" Johnny said, "Then maybe we can power up the machine and make one of those collars for you."

Diego blinked at him, swinging his head around to look at the machine then back at Johnny. He pointed at the machine, elaborating, "It says there's enough materials for another collar like the one Lilian is wearing- if we use it on you, it means you'll be able to talk right? You gotta be fed up with writing stuff all the time. I mean it might not work but we can try. I guess. We just need to go to the basement and put it in."

* * *

The basement was flooded. Waist high water covered the concrete floor while several pipes on the far wall were exposed and broken.

Johnny sighed, feeling so tired. "For fuck's sake."

Diego grumbled next to him, the two standing at the top of the stairs that led down to the flooded basement. The metal frame was rusted and some of the steps were missing. Johnny peered over the railing, noticing some rocks had somehow gotten in the basement. Looking around he spotted the generator that needed the fusion core, at the back of the room but just in front of the staircase. It should be easy enough to just walk down there and wade/swim before shoving in the fusion core and then getting out. He didn't want to get wet so was dithering on maybe asking Diego to do it when the Deathclaw nudged him.

He gave Diego a questioning look only for the Deathclaw to point at the rocks while growling lowly. Johnny thought they giant white rocks which had somehow gotten into the basement but Diego nudged him again. So he kept his attention focused on the rock closest to the bottom of the stairs, staring at it for nearly a minute until it suddenly _moved._

 _What the fuck?_ He watched as the rock drifted through the water, causing a few ripples before the thing suddenly stood up.

It looked like a giant crab, even taller than Johnny and broader with forearms ending in massive claws and body covered in thick chitin the colour of off yogurt. Tiny secondary claws were tucked up against its chest, little pincers flexing, but it was still disturbingly humanoid just in its bipedal stance with four scuttling legs wading through the water. The whole appearance of the mutant crab creeped Johnny out immensely.

Diego promptly leapt down the stairs without a second glance, lunging past the steps and right on top of the crab with his claws making horrid grating noises against the shell. Johnny barely had time to curse at the Deathclaw's abrupt attack, yanking his rifle free as the other rocks burst upright, more of the creepy crabs snapping at Diego's scaled hide as he attacked them.

Snarling under his breath Johnny quickly ran down the stairs, grunting with the impact before skidding to a halt on the first landing which gave him a clear line of sight to the crabs. Their pincers weren't doing much to Diego's scales but neither did he seem to be able to bite through its shell. Dropping to one knee Johnny hefted up the rifle to his shoulder and fired, the sharp recoil butting against him.

The bullet ricochet off the shell of the crab, pinging off into the wall with a burst of dust. Baring his teeth Johnny struggled to control his breathing, cursing the fact the rifle didn't have a scope. That didn't stop him from shooting the next crab in the gut however, the thing staggering back on its scuttling legs. 

The one benefit to being high meant that Diego was the priority target so Johnny's rather lackluster shooting went fairly unopposed. He got in several more shots, three going wide, two more pinging off shells and the other two striking the crabs in their more vulnerable fronts before he had to reload. While thumbing in the bullets as quickly as possible Diego had rammed all ten of his claws into one of the crab's face, the flesh seemingly being far softer there compared with the hard chitin of their bodies and curved shells.

Shifting targets he got three more shots- one narrowly missing Diego's neck -before he got one of the crab's right in the face to which it keeled over dead. Diego finished mauling the one he was grappling with, leaving two left. Johnny shot one, bullet embedding itself in the joint of its main pincer. Another shot and the mutated crab's face exploded in a mass of white flesh and green blood. On the other crab Diego had gotten his claws into the face of it and pried it open, along with a sizable amount of its innards. The sound of splintering shell was like cracking marble as Diego tossed the body aside with a loud splash.

Johnny waited, tense and unsure until Diego gave him the thumbs up. Exhaling he holstered the rifle, pleased that he'd been a better shot than when he encountered the dogs. Taking more care to descend the stairs he eyed the floating corpse of one of the giant crabs. _First mole rats then chameleons, now crabs. If there's giant mutant man-eating horses I'm done._

He stopped at the step just before the flooded basement floor, not really interested in getting wet. At Diego's mute prompt he pulled out the fusion core from his backpack, handing it over to the Deathclaw who waded across the basement to where the inert generator was. Johnny picked at the bandage on his forearm as he waited, watching Diego as he poked at the generator before slotting in the fusion core. Instantly a low humming filled the air, the back up lighting brightening up substantially as the full power kicked up. The hum of machinery began to shudder and rumble the building-

 _Wait, what-_ Johnny barely had time to register the fact it wasn't the generator making the building shake but rather the hole in the wall bulging as something began clawing its way through. A split second later Diego had to leap out of the way as the concrete exploded outwards, causing a wave of water splashing across everything as a monstrous thing heaved it way through the and swung towards them.

The crab was absolutely massive, over twelve feet tall with a huge hunched shell with jagged dark green chitin that seemed to fill the entire room. The huge creature was moving forward on six scuttling legs, all barbed and armoured and the flooded water barely came up to the first joint. Its main forearms ended in long pincers taller than Johnny, with its far smaller secondary limbs the same length as his own arms. Two bulbous glowing eyes swiveled around on stalks, small antenna swaying above the flexing mess of its face before it shrieked as it caught sight of him. 

_What the fuck is that thing,_ was all Johnny's frozen mind could think. Then Diego's scaly arm hooked around his midriff, flicking him up onto the Deathclaw's back. Johnny instinctively grabbed onto the large spikes jutting from Diego's back as the Deathclaw took off at a four-legged sprint. The giant crab shrieked and instantly gave chase, its six legs scuttling through the water with surprisingly speed. Johnny managed to shake off his mental paralysis, swinging a leg over Diego so it was against the bag tied to the Deathclaw's hips before he pulled free his pistol and fired at the pursuing mutated crab. Two bullets went wide but five hit the crab; three ricochet off its shell while the other two sank into the facial tendrils in a small burst of blood. 

The thing didn't even slow down, scuttling after them with its massive fore-claws raised to try and catch Diego within them. Johnny fired off another shot before Diego bounded up onto one of the fried consoles, leaping across the railing and up onto the second landing of the stairs. The giant crab vomited out a spray of green fluid as its pursuit was thawted, Diego skidding up the corner of the stair and leaping clear of the liquid as it splashed against the metal and wall. The fluid ate through it like sulfuric acid as a horrid burning smell filled the air.

Diego ignored that, leaping up the last flight of stairs and darting through the doorway, Johnny narrowly missing bashing his head on the frame even as another spray of the acid struck the wall before a scaly hand slapped the door shut. Johnny lost his grip on Diego, rolling off in a heap on the ground while Diego growled.

"Alright," Johnny said, voice strained as he tried to stop his hands from shaking, "I guess we can also put crabs down on the 'giant horrible mutated thing' list along with bears and people. Great."

Diego just gave a grunt, giving the sealed door a stern look as if it had insulted him. At least it seemed the gigantic crab couldn't climb the stairs. Diego as it was strained the rustic old metal with his weight and that thing was twice his size.

"Please be advised that-"

"Shut up!" Johnny shouted at Lilian, the cyberhound flinching. He glared at the animal before flopping down on the ground, pressing his forehead on the cold floor as he exhaled deeply. _Why isn't anything easy._

Diego meanwhile had moved over to the console, looking none the worse to wear for his encounter with the crabs beyond a few scratches and green blood stains, and started typing on the computer. Johnny shoved that to the back of his mind, concentrating on breathing. Everything was so stressful and annoying. Even starting a generator resulted in murderous crabs and near dying. At least he managed to hit something with the rifle this time, though he felt the need to invest in a scope. Maybe at Diamond City he could filch or barter one. 

Or maybe he should go buy that rocket launcher from Kleo. He was still tossing that up in the air.

By the time Johnny got back to his feet, feeling tired and annoyed, the strange collar machine was whistling like a tea kettle fit to boil with Diego sitting on his haunches next to it.

"Think it'll work?" Johnny asked. Diego just shrugged, blue eyes fixed on the discharge slot as he drummed his claws on his thighs.

A few minutes passed before a bright _ding!_ sounded and then the long length of a collar began to roll out. Diego snatched it up, inspecting the powder blue length before offering it to Johnny. He had to stand on his tip toes to wrap it around Diego's neck, the Deathclaw crouching down as Johnny fit the collar between his neck spikes in front of the tied sleeves of his Vault suit. It was on firmly enough it would fray his scales but snugly enough it wouldn't jostle. The dial at the middle rested at the base of his throat.

Trying to turn the dial didn't work or turn it on and Johnny didn't really know what was wrong until he spotted two small metallic gleams in the discharge slot. Picking them up revealed thumb sized chips, with a sharp wire edge half an inch long. Diego grunted, dipping his head down further and pointing at the base of his horns. Johnny was confused until he looked over at Lilian, noting she had two identical chips fixed against her brain casing. Probably some type of receiver for their thoughts or brainwaves something, to translate it to speech. He didn't really understand the whole thing on the computer.

Shrugging it off he pressed the chip into the base of Diego's horn, grunting slightly as he had to force the edge deep through the scaly tissue. He was worried over hurting Diego but the Deathclaw urged him on until it was embedded deep into his skin, a few drops of red blood welling around the chip after Johnny forced it in as far as he could. Then he did the same for the other side.

After a very long moment nothing happened, Johnny backing off a step and rubbing his bloodied fingers against his dark blue pants. Diego straightened back up, carefully turning the dial at the base of his throat.

It clicked on, the noise of a booting computer emanating through the air. Johnny jumped at the noise even as Lilian got to her feet, tail waggling. Another moment past before Diego spoke.

In a language Johnny didn't understand. Johnny started at him as Diego's lips curled, switching the dial again. This time the language was different but still one Johnny didn't recognize and _click click click_ as the Deathclaw swiveled through the languages. 

Then-

"How about this one?" The voice was completely humanoid, enough it made Johnny twitch. It was strange, hearing the words but Diego's mouth didn't move just like the cyberhound.

"So, I guess it has language settings?" Johnny said, feeling oddly nervous, "Which um. I guess is helpful."

"Finally," Diego said, his voice British accented with a nasty sarcastic edge to it akin to Charlie as he titled his head to look at Johnny, "I was absolutely fucking _sick_ of all that writing."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Johnny's running around at like not even a quarter health at this point poor fella
> 
> But man, the first time you encounter a [Mirelurk Queen](https://d-infinity.net/sites/default/files/mirelurk%20queen.jpg) in Fallout 4 is quite a trip lol


	21. The great green jewel of the Commonwealth

* * *

Diego, as it turned out, was _talkative._

It had been less than an hour since they left the dilapidated Disney store and its killer giant crab and Diego had nearly talked non stop. At first he was doing it as a way to adjust to the blue collar, testing to see its response to his pitch and tone. He figured out yelling and whispering, along with toying around until he figured how to speak and when _not_ to. It was still rather strange for Johnny to have a conversation with the Deathclaw, considering his toothy jaw wouldn't move and he could still hiss or grumble while the collar spoke. It did greatly improve their communication, Diego being able to give Johnny a lot more information and Johnny now able to know exactly what Diego wanted or was trying to say without having to write it down.

Still, it was quickly revealed Diego was arrogant, rude and standoffish. He actually rather reminded Johnny of how he'd behave before being shot, all the condescending and snobby attitude before a bullet shut him up real quick and Johnny just became miserable and bitter. That snide attitude also extended to Johnny and he was fed up after the first ten minutes of being criticized or told how terrible the world currently was. He didn't exactly need a reminder.

"This whole place is disgusting. Did people from your era truly live like this?" 

"Like what?" Johnny groaned irritably, nearly tripping over a car door while giving the Deathclaw an exasperated look.

"Cramped together like filthy vermin. Little wonder so many died when the bombs fell if they were this stupid," Diego kicked aside a skeleton, the bones making a horrid rattling noise on the concrete. His jaw snapped shut with an ugly sound.

"Look, it was pretty crap back then alright? And I largely didn't care so I can't exactly tell you about the 'social-ecological problems' or whatever the hell you said were going on about before."

"Yes, you do seem to have a fairly garbage attention span and perception in general. I do not know how you didn't die horribly before you met me."

"Luck, probably."

"Luck doesn't exist, it's just something fools cling to."

Johnny ground his teeth together, checking his Pip-Boy and getting some comfort that Diamond City was only a few blocks away. They hadn't run into any other creatures besides a few ghouls and feral dogs, even if occasionally gunfire and screaming could be heard bouncing through the streets but Diego's excessive nattering and nit-picking was a lot more exhausting than he anticipated, especially after weeks of quiet travel. Diego didn't seem to care but Johnny was sore and tired and just wanted to sleep. Everything about the wastes was _tiring_ and he never was that athletic to begin with.

Because of this he entirely missed the stranger approaching until Johnny nearly ran right into him as he turned the corner; the man was entirely encased in old dusty baseball gear like a catcher, complete with the wire guard even if it was rusted with time. He gave a startled noise as Johnny nearly collided into his chest, quickly sidestepping even as Johnny lurched backwards and stumbled into the wall.

The man lowered his spiked baseball bat, posture loosening as he looked Johnny over and dismissed his dirty and lean appearance as a threat, "Hey, if you're heading towards Diamond City just go through-"

Then Diego's paw swiped at the man's helmeted head, talons swatting his skull off in a bloody burst. Gore and bone splattered across the brick wall as the man's body slumped, Diego nimbly shifting to avoid his scales being bloodied. Johnny got knocked to the side by the Deathclaw's muscular tail as he moved, growling trailing off as he flicked gore from his claws in an almost nonchalant motion as Johnny gaped at the sudden carnage.

"What the _fuck_ you just killed him!"

"Yeah." Diego sniffed at the corpse before giving Johnny a fairly unimpressed look. A look that said _Why do you even care, fool?_

Johnny swallowed thickly, sinking his teeth into his index finger before stumbling out, "Why did you even kill him?"

"Oh please, you are really going to lecture me over killing things now?"

"He mentioned Diamond City!" Johnny yelled, "He was probably a damn perimeter guard or something!"

"Huh. Not much of one, considering he was entirely focused on you and not me."

"Yeah, just kill the guards of the city we're trying to get into. Like that won't backfire."

"Because they would clearly have cameras in this trash heap? Please, spare me the lecture and loot the body."

Johnny refused and this Diego had to frisk the man's cooling headless corpse, finding a dozen caps and a few bobby pins. It took some convincing but Johnny managed to talk Diego out of stripping the man of his armour, arguing it would be too obvious. Grumbling, Diego agreed after some arguing before they moved on.

The next block was bracketed with makeshift walls but was noticeably cleaner than a lot of the other streets of Boston they'd traveled through. The spray painted DIAMOND CITY THIS WAY -> along one of the walls was also promising. Still, he felt jittery from the casual murder and Diego's muttering really didn't help his nerves. Also reminded him Diego could smack his head off without any problem if he really wanted to even if the Deathclaw currently kept his attitude down to simple rudeness, like an antagonistic sibling. 

Then they stopped at the end of a side street which led out into a large square that Johnny could see more of the people wearing baseball uniforms wandering too and fro along with several rusty turrets set up behind sandbag piles. Diego lurked behind the thick sheets of cardboard and iron, just out of line of sight of the main gates where there were more of the people wearing baseball uniforms. A few thick sheets of red were strung above the gateway and a wooden sign saying _Welcome_ was propped against a burnt truck husk a few feet in.

"This...This is the old baseball stadium. Explains the outfits and I guess it'd be pretty secure," Johnny said, squinting at the square suspiciously. He could see the dull green statue of the baseball player standing at the edge of the square, poised in preparation for a swing and exactly the same as it had been two centuries ago. He never really liked baseball.

The massive iron gate was lowered over the front entrance, in front of which was a woman in a red leather trench coat yelling into a intercom next to the gate, far enough he couldn't decipher the words. The towering walls of the stadium were rusted and riddled with bullet holes and haphazard iron panels nailed onto but a lot of it had been partially covered in green paint. Johnny had to wonder if the person who first founded Diamond City was a _Wizard of Oz_ fan or something.

"Maybe....We should act like you're just a pet," Johnny suggested, trying not to flinch at the fairly ugly look Diego gave him. "I doubt they'll just let you walk in with me," Johnny pressed on, even as Diego growled, "They've got feral Deathclaws and zombies running around here and then you killed that guard-"

"You still whining about that-"

"I'm being reasonable! You're a giant scaly lizard with huge teeth and claws, you think these paranoid idiots aren't going to lose their crap if you _talk_ to them? You're not even like a cyberhound." Diego's eyes narrowed but he didn't insult or snarl at Johnny so he quickly continued, "Look, we just need supplies and a place to sleep for the night. Then we can carry on but I don't think pissing off the entire town is a good thing to do."

The Deathclaw grumbled, flexing his long taloned hands as his tail flicked from side to side. Then Diego let out a loud snort, collar lighting up as he said in his faintly metallic British voice, "Fine, but if anyone starts something with me I'm smacking them in the head."

Johnny relaxed, some of the tension seeping from his limbs, "I'm pretty sure they'll be too scared to start anything. I'll just say you're my tamed Deathclaw guard or something."

"Play up the Vault angle, they seem to think Vault dwellers are strange as is or will think you're some hapless wreck," Diego told him.

"We're both Vault dwellers so I suppose that applies to you as well," Johnny said as he stepped out into the square, swallowing down his nervousness at being in the open but trying not to show it.

Diego stayed close, keeping his attention on Johnny and ignoring the quick attention of the baseball uniform clad look outs who immediately noticed them with a lot of pointing and upholstering of weapons. Johnny tried to look casual as he walked further into the square until the concrete gave way to the brick path leading up to the barred entrance of the stadium and where the woman with the red trench coat was.

"What do you mean I can't come in?" The woman was saying angrily into the intercom, paying them no attention as she continued yelling, "Stop playing around, Danny! I'm standing out here in the open for crying out loud!"

She was entirely oblivious to the two and the guards were tense yet seemed to be waiting for either to turn hostile so Johnny quickly looked around the square and spotted another woman lurking off near one of the blasted buildings, one of the disturbing two headed cows lingering behind her with crates strapped to its back and chewing on a stubborn patch of grass growing from the asphalt. 

The woman was lean, wearing a ragged tan jacket with its hood pulled up and pale green beanie. Her skin was pockmarked and there was deep red circles around her eyes with the whites tinged heavily in crimson and pupils the size of pinheads. Johnny was familiar enough with drug addiction to know the woman was currently using but had no idea what type of drugs were 'popular' in the post apocalyptic America. 

She look one look at Diego and her entire face lit up, jaw dropping into a wide grin, "Ahahaha oh _wow_ I bet I could fit my whole head in your mouth and you could bite it off in one chomp huh?"

Her voice was jittery and her fingers kept curling into claws as if she was holding herself back from jumping at Diego. His muzzle wrinkled up in obvious distaste but otherwise ignored her from where he was standing a few feet back and slightly to the side of Johnny.

"You a traveler?" Johnny asked, having to repeat himself until the woman's twitching eyes focused on him.

"Traders! If it can chamber, cock and spit out lead then I sell it. I sell slashers and clobberers too, for those maniacs that like it up close like your friend here! Bet you can swipe off someones head in a single hit, eh buddy?"

Johnny bit back the taste of bile, knowing full well how easily Diego could do so. Shoving aside the visceral mental image he instead said, "I've already got my weapons. How do you get into Diamond City?"

"That place? They're all soft and stupid in there, I just trade outside to the folks who wanna get into some real excitement. 'Sides, I'm not allowed in." She muttered that last part while scratching at the back of her hand harshly enough she drew thin furrows of blood.

"Right, okay," he quickly backed off, unsure of the woman and her jittery movements while Diego grumbled behind him. 

However true to his word the Deathclaw said nothing as he followed Johnny back across the square, stopping a few feet in front of the stadium's barred entrance. The gate was huge, twice as tall as Diego, and made of thick unyielding metal. Even a mini nuke wouldn't dent the thing. _How am I supposed to get in? Do I talk to one of the guards? Yell at the intercom as well?_

"Psst, hey. You. You want into Diamond City, right?" the woman suddenly hissed to him. Johnny jumped, instinctively grabbing the butt of his gun as she leaned into his space.

"Obviously," he said, looking her up and down before crossing his arms.

Her bright dark eyes darted to Diego, the black hair framing her face bouncing with her excited movements as she whispered, "Okay, so play along." She leaned back towards the intercom, saying loudly, "What was that? You're a trader from Quincy and even have your own tame pack Deathclaw? And have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for months, huh?"

Johnny stared at her, unsure what she was really doing. Admittedly Diego _did_ look like some kind of pack animal with the two thick green military satchels hanging on his hips, Vault suit stretched across his chest and general non feral attitude but Johnny really didn't think he looked like a trader. Then again, the drug addled woman was an arms dealer so clearly the usual licenses didn't apply in the current day and age. And he wanted some place to sleep, so he nodded along with the woman.

"You hear that Danny?" she continued to say in the intercom, gloved hands waving, "You gonna open the gate and let us in? Or are you gonna be the one telling crazy Myrna about losing out on all these supplies? Not to mention they sent the one with the _tame Deathclaw._ You hear that?!"

"Oh come on Piper, at least make up something believable. No need to get personal," the voice on the other end of the intercom grumbled, "Fine. Give me a minute."

The loud squeal of rusted gears made Johnny and Diego cringe even as the massive slab of metal barring the entry way began to slowly ascend, revealing the rusty entrance of the refurbished baseball stadium. 

"Better go inside before he catches on," the woman told Johnny even as her dark eyes remained fixed on Diego. 

Johnny eyed her uncertainly as she turned and walked through the open entry, the tattered hem of her coat swaying with her steps, before deciding to follow her inside the building. The inside of the stadium was dark, dimly lit with filthy lights and more of the baseball uniform clad guards lingered there along with a large man wearing a tan suit and hat. Probably the most well dressed person Johnny had yet met since waking up, but that didn't really say much.

"I- just _what_ are you thinking, Piper, bringing that thing in here?" the portly man yelled, pointing at Diego, "You, you devious rabble-rousing slanderer! You've taken it too far this time, paying some crazed mercenary to drag in a Deathclaw of all things! Is this some cheap trick? Because I will not be intimidated like this-"

The woman, Piper, quickly put herself between Johnny and the man, waving a finger in his face as she yelled back, "That gonna be your opening statement, Mr. McDonough? Threatening any passerby just because of the way they look? Like how you keep on trying to shut me down as well? An anti-freedom fighter huh?!"

"A Deathclaw is hardly a member of society, it's a wild animal!"

"Yeah I mean just look at it standing there like a pack Brahmin, at heel with its owner. So wild, such a menace!"

Diego snarled deeply at that but Johnny quickly grabbed onto one of his horns, the edges digging into his skin. Piper faltered in her yelling, even as the guards tensed while McDonough took a step back.

"Yes. He's um tame but still a Deathclaw," Johnny said, brow furrowing, "So you should know what that means."

"Yeah, so many let's not annoy the clawed death machine, huh?" Piper threw in. Why she was so eager to support him Johnny wasn't sure but at the moment he was fairly grateful for it. Even if she didn't realize Diego's anger was directed towards her comments. Diego rolled his eyes to stare at Johnny before curling his lip and dipping his head. Johnny let go of his horn.

"This here is the mayor of Diamond City," Piper said, pointing an accusing finger at McDonough, "He's threatening to throw free speech into the dumpster! Publick Occurrences, we take a look at the truth, no matter how hard it is! I mean a guy like you have to understand that right? I bet you get all sorts of grief just because of your buddy there. Just like how the mayor was throwing a tantrum over it even if you aren't being a threat. Jumping at shadows just like a-" 

"I've warned you about slander, Piper," McDonough interrupted angrily, "And now trying to drag passerby's into your wild accusations."

"Oh little bit of hesitance in your support of him, just when you were about to throw him out simply because you didn't like the company he keeps," Piper shot back.

The fight between the two was obviously old; Johnny could tell in the dull anger between the two and the fairly awkward stances of the guards watching. Next to him Diego sighed in a thick exhale, before shooting him a look from the corner of his eye. Johnny just gave a half hearted shrug in response.

"Piper, that's enough!" McDonough shouted that loud enough it seemed to echo through the room before he winced while Piper glared. Then in a deliberate gesture he turned to Johnny, rage vanishing like any practiced politician, "I didn't mean to drag you into this argument, good sir. Of course any trader would be welcomed here, especially one entrusted with a tame Deathclaw. I assume you were sent by the Crimson Caravan? Perhaps the Gun Runners? Or- oh, the NCR have sent you! We know they've expanded, especially after that Vegas debacle. Maybe from New Vegas itself? I have heard many strange things coming out of the Mojave but their economy is certainly booming."

Johnny had no idea what the man was talking about, instead scratching at the makeshift bandage on his forearm while saying in his most diplomatic voice, "Look, it's been a very long...month for me here. I would prefer some rest before any business, if you would allow us entry."

"Of course, welcome to the great green jewel of the Commonwealth. Safe, happy. A fine place to come, spend your money, settle down," McDonough said brightly, stretching out his arms, "Don't let this muckraker here say otherwise. Provided you keep your pet under control and well behaved, I'm sure you'll find Diamond City more than satisfies any need you have. Here, we welcome all traders of any cloth provided they keep things civil. We have every conceivable service known to man here in Diamond City, one of our great citizens will be able to help with your needs. And once you've had your rest at one of our stellar inns, feel free to drop by my office tomorrow to discuss terms."

 _Is he seriously letting me in just to prove that woman Piper wrong?_ Johnny thought, eyeing the portly man as he straightened his tie while still smiling at Johnny. Piper meanwhile had her hands on her hips, lips twisted into an angry frown as if she was about to start yelling at McDonough again.

"Oh I see, you can't be bothered to help about these disappearances happening across the Commonwealth and even in Diamond City but you can have time to interrogate a merchant?" Piper spoke up angrily, "Wonder why, huh?"

"I've had enough of this, Piper!" McDonough threw up his hands, glaring at her, "From now on consider you and that little sister of yours on notice!"

Piper shouted something to his back as the mayor left back through the doors into the hub of the stadium, fists clenched to her sides as if restraining herself from attacking him. The guards just shook their heads, even if Johnny noticed they still were all keeping Diego in their line of sight. Kinda understandable but at least the yelling seemed to be over even if Johnny didn't really get half of it. Obviously a bad history between the two anyway. As it was the whole incident turned in his favour so he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Tugging on her leather cap Piper turned to him with a fairly tired smile on her face, anger slipping away,"Look...I gotta get settled in, but um step by my office later. I have an idea for an article you'd be perfect for, Blue."

"Blue? And why'd you even want to do an article on me." Johnny was too tired to deal with a joke about his eyes. Or maybe she was talking about Diego and his scales.

The woman ignored his annoyed inner monologue, gesturing wildly with her hands as she said, "You know, 'cause you're a Vault dweller? I know you're not wearing the blue jumpsuit 'round your waist right now but the Pip-Boy and fish out of water look look? Dead giveaways. Not to mention that companion of yours. So here's the deal. I want an interview. Your life story in print-"

"And why would I tell you any of that?" Johnny said, irritated by the suddenly nosy woman. Little wonder she and the mayor didn't get along. _Christ, I see even a nuclear holocaust isn't enough to stop the paparazzi._

"Well, if you do that I'll come with you. Watch your back while you get used to the world above ground."

Johnny just stared at her for a long moment before slowly turning around to look over his shoulder at where Diego was lurking behind him. Piper laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head as she said, "Yeah...Guess I don't measure up to a tame Deathclaw escort. Is there something else, maybe I can give you a few good hints about some prospecting places I've heard about? Maybe a good heap of caps? Or um, or maybe I can..."

Piper started muttering to herself, brow furrowed as she tried to figure out a way to barter before she snapped her fingers, expression brightening. "What about a meal?"

"Seriously?"

"Oh come on, it's hard to barter with a guy who doesn't seem to want anything. But everyone likes food, am I right? Also got a special bottle of booze I've been saving. So how about it? Come on, a girl is desperate."

Johnny looked back at Diego who gave him a heavy shrug. Obviously the Deathclaw wasn't overly concerned and wouldn't care either way. The prospect of free food and alcohol was enticing, especially in the company of a pretty woman despite the questioning. He wasn't exactly a good cook, even if Diego ate all his food without complaint. Maybe he could figure out more about post-nuclear life as well, since he hadn't exactly run into many reasonable folks yet. 

"...Alright fine, but I want to have some sleep first," he conceded.

Piper did a happy little dance, clapping her hands together while smiling broadly, "Don't worry, I'll cook up a Brahmin steak like you've never seen before...Which I guess in your case will be true. So stop by the office tomorrow, 'round noon okay? I'll have everything set up."

"What's a Brahmin, anyway?"

She blinked before pointing out the entry gate of Diamond City to where the merchant and the two headed cow was, "See that brown thing with four hooves and two heads? That's a Brahmin."

"You mean the cow?"

"Yeah. Guess they taught you differently in the Vault, right?"

"You could say that," Johnny eyed her, still unsure but getting more and more convinced she was just a noisy tabloid journalist. Maybe he could get more information on the general state of the world from her tomorrow but as it was his injuries ached and his eyes felt itchy and his legs muscles were twitching. Sleep first, so he asked her, "Any places you'd recommend for a night?"

Piper said, "Well there's a few inns here in Diamond City, most popular is the Dugout. Just head across the market place to the right, it'll be lit up with a sign."

Johnny brusquely thanked her, which got another smile before she walked off into the entry of the city and vanished inside the refurbished stadium. Behind him Diego exhaled, hot breath ruffling the red hair on his nape and Johnny rubbed at the skin irritably before walking towards the entry as well. Diego followed briefly before swerving to snarl menacingly at one of the guards, the only one not wearing a helmet to showcase his bald head and large dark sunglasses. The guard jolted back as Diego prowled towards him, nearly dropping his cigarette. 

"Diego, leave him alone," Johnny snapped, too fed up to deal with whatever drama the Deathclaw wanted to cause.

There was a long tense moment where the other guards slowly raised their weapons while the bald man raised his hands in supplication. Then Diego snarled once more before turning and stalking off through the inner gate, Johnny trailing after him and ignoring the hostile stares directed after them.

* * *

Diamond City was a disappointment. It looked like a shanty town, countless shacks made up of rusty red sheet metal populating what used to be the stands. In the belly of the stadium where the field used to be two centuries ago was now a market place, bulbs burning bright in the darkening sky. He stepped past an archway with a diamond within a diamond symbol cut out of it, peering around the stadium. To the left was a large elevated series of floors like some makeshift scenic tower while leading down the stairs in front of him was the hub of the market while the right was mainly shacks and housing.

He grimaced, the smell just like Goodneighbour. Burning and rancid with an ugly stench of smoke.

"Oh come on Johnny, it's post nuclear." Diego hissed next to him, his artificial voice pitched low as his snout brushed against Johnny's ear, "What were you really expecting? Clearly our Vaults are the height of civilization and cleanliness in this garbage dump of a country."

"I...I don't even know what I was hoping for," he grumbled, stumbling his way down until he reached even footing, the soles of his boots scraping against the old metal steps until they sank into the hard packed earth. 

The first shop he passed was manned by a young girl, barely a teenager, and waving a series of papers back and forth as she called out, "Read all about it! Are synths replacing people? Is your neighbour really human? Read all-" she cut herself off with a shriek when she spotted Diego lurking behind Johnny, dropping the newspaper she was holding.

Johnny looked up at the glowing green sign attached to the building behind the girl, the words saying _Publick Occurrences_ in loopy letters. Piper's place, no doubt. The mayor did mention a younger sister.

"Oh, oh! You have a Deathclaw!" the girl looked torn between screaming some more or rushing towards Diego, her voice pitched high with fear and excitement, "I've never seen one before!"

"Not my problem," Johnny said rudely before Diego shoved him forward with a nose in the back. _Right, find a doctor and then somewhere to sleep._

They went further into the market, which loosely circled the massive pillar in the middle of the area. A small bar manned by a rusty yellow Protectron hugged the pillar, the robot wearing a dirty old chefs hat while stirring a pot with a cracked wooden spoon. The lights inside its glass domed head glowed in the growing darkness, Johnny sniffing as he passed by. Diego stuck close, close enough his jaw kept bumping into the back of Johnny's head, but that didn't mean there wasn't a lot of panic and nasty glares. Even moreso than he got in Goodneighbour but Johnny quickly noticed there were no zombies, or ghouls, anywhere so far.

There were more shops than Goodneighbour, including a well lit hairdresser, but he quickly noticed many were closing up for the night. _Damnit._

Ignoring a fairly intense glare from some old blond woman Johnny stepped closer to the hairdresser shop and quickly gestured to one of the baseball clad uniform guards.

"Keep that thing on a tight leash," a guard snapped at him in lieu of a greeting.

Johnny resisted the urge to flip her off, instead saying lowly, "Is there a doctor here?"

"Yeah, but they're shut for the night already. Bad enough with the clean up."

"Urgh. What happened?"

"At the mega surgery store had some drama before," she told him, "Doc Crocker went nuts, killed a patient and when security confronted him he cut his throat with a scalpel. Dunno how Doc Sun is gonna manage that store all alone. Think the mayor is asking traders if they know any wandering doctors who want a more permanent stay. Most usually stick around for a few days before bouncing 'cause of the Institute now days."

"So it's shut down?" 

"Nah, just only open later and closes earlier since Sun gotta pace himself. Pain the ass, especially since it means it's harder for medical supplies or people to get quick checkups. So keep that thing of yours close, don't need it killing folks or making them nervous."

"I'll keep my spray bottle handy," he said sarcastically, turning away and nearly colliding with Diego's nose. The Deathclaw growled at the woman, making her tense, before following Johnny across the quieting market place.

Johnny rubbed at his bruised face while he walked, annoyed that he couldn't buy more stimpacks. He had none and was still aching from his barely sealed wounds the wild Deathclaw had dealt him, along with the countless other injuries he'd suffered over the past week. There was also no Med-X to dull the pain for an added bonus. At least finding the Dugout inn was easy, for as Piper said there was a fairly large sign over the entry way and neither were stopped going inside. Even if Diego had to carefully inch his way through the narrow doorway to avoid banging his shoulder spikes though thankfully the inside was a lot more spacious and he could straighten up.

Though if Diego was a 'normal' sized Deathclaw he would probably have to partially crawl on all fours. Johnny resisted the urge to rest a hand on Diego's neck, unsure of how to really act as he stepped through into the lobby. It was cozy, lit with amber and had furniture and desks set around in front of a long bar backed with shelves of alcohol. The low husky drone of the patrons and the jukebox playing made a thick wave of nostalgia wash over Johnny.

Then Diego shoved him and he nearly faceplanted, stumbling forward while glaring at Diego who just bared his teeth at him. The sudden hush that swept over the bar made Johnny twitch before quickly sidestepping to avoid getting bowled over by Diego.

"Oh my _God_ can you believe the mayor let those two in? Look at that red haired man, he's clearly sent by the Institute! And that hideous beast of his!" the woman hissed to her companion, obviously staring at them. Johnny promptly flipped her off, spitefully enjoying the scandalized way she gasped and clutched at her breast.

Walking to the bar Johnny ducked around a tipsy patron to stop before the old thick wood, the stocky barkeep turning to Johnny with a crocked smile.

The man had a noticeable accent as he greeted Johnny with a booming, "See this bar? I killed a man for it! Haha, I kid. I kid. He is dead though. You seem like man most familiar with that, followed by your scaly death machine. Ah, must be a story behind taming that! Or perhaps you bred it? Possible, is it? Heard many try but only you seem to have succeed."

"Yeah great, this your bar?" Johnny asked.

"Damn straight it is. My brother Yefim and I make best moonshine in the entire Commonwealth. We call it Bobrov's Best. Had to start renting out rooms just so customers had a place to safely pass out after drinking. Say, your beast drink? Might need a few jugs for him."

"I want a place to sleep."

"Eh. Talk to Yefim about that, I deal with drinks. And I tell good stories, we should share some huh? You can tell me how you caught your big pet."

Johnny really wasn't sure about that, just rather nodding along as he backed away from the bar. Diego eyed the bartender for a long moment, to which the man seemed entirely unfazed if not fascinated, before following him, quickly spotting a man lounging near a hallway who bore such a strong resemblance to Vadim that Johnny guessed he was the brother. Something verified when the man spoke as soon as Johnny got within a foot of him.

"My brother Vadim runs the bar," The man told him, "Scarlett's our waitress and she helps me keep the rooms clean. As much as they can be. Ten caps a room and you keep that beast of yours outside." 

"I...don't think it's a very good idea to leave him outside," Johnny said lowly. Diego bared his teeth.

Yefim frowned, tugging on the frayed hems of his sleeves before asking, "Is it housebroken? It won't scratch the furniture?"

"He's fine. Here's ten caps."

"Good. Don't let it roam, I don't care what the mayor says. He doesn't pay upkeep here."

The room given was much like the one in the Rexford Hotel, spartan with a bed, cabinets and an attached bathroom that seemed to be partially exploded. Regardless Johnny felt an intense feeling of relief wash over him as he shut the door, Diego settling down on the moth eaten rug in the middle of the room to start pulling off his packs and rubbing at the dark blue scales of his hips.

"This whole town feels...strange," Johnny admitted, checking the lock on the room before backing away. He was half expecting someone to burst inside at any moment.

The collar around Diego's throat glowed as he said, "They do seem very paranoid. As if everyone is a few hairs away from shooting everyone else."

"Yeah, I don't think it's just typical post nuke paranoia either. Goodneighbour didn't feel like this," Johnny sat down on the bed, undoing his boot laces and kicking them off.

Carefully he undid his pistol holster and slid out his combat knife, laying the weapons on the blanket next to him and propping his rifle against the bedside table. With a grunt he then peeled off his pants, wincing at the countless bruises dotting the skin of his legs and the reddish discolouration around his knees and down his shins. _Crap._

After shucking off his backpack and hoodie, he checked his ribs to see the bruises had mostly faded to a sour yellow but still ached. Fresh bruises from the Deathclaw had unfortunately shown up along with irritated red patches of skin and shallow grazes. Bad enough he had hardly recovered from Ferdinand hurling him around and then a giant lizard tried killing him.

Pulling off his beanie Johnny ran a hand through his red hair, hissing as his fingers caught in countless tangles and knots in the greasy strands. There wasn't a lot of opportunities for showers in the wastes and a part of him was annoyed he left Vault 24 so quickly when it had freely available running hot water. Never mind it was a tomb.

On the rug Diego shoved aside his packs, with his Vault suit folded up neatly leaving him with just his collar. The Deathclaw stretched like a cat, tail curling and maw gaping as he yawned.

Johnny watched him for a long moment, at the thick muscles clad in dense scales and heavy spikes. It was still rather strange to know that Diego had once been a man, just like himself. Trying to wave off a tide of morbid thoughts Johnny checked the tape on his arm before bracing himself. He peeled the makeshift bandage, grimacing as the duct tape ripped off some of the hairs on his arm and made his skin sting. He eyed the cut on his forearm as it was revealed, scabbed and red but thankfully no bleeding or sign of infection. The lone stimpack had sealed the wound well enough but it would probably tear open if he stressed it or didn't wait long enough.

"You're very fragile," Diego observed from where he was sprawled on the floor like a great cat.

"Not all of us have scales," Johnny said, too tired to argue.

Pulling off the other bandages on his face and hands made him hiss lowly as his skin tugged painfully, before he went about with the boring task of cleaning the wounds with the leftover alcohol which stung before cutting up the dress with his knife and then duct taping his wounds back again. Then he ate a box of Fancy Lad's Snack Cakes, munching on the sweets which tasted exactly the same as they did two centuries ago. He tried to ignore Diego's staring, even if he felt his cheeks burn under the Deathclaw's scrutiny.

That, or maybe he was just a bit more away he was sitting on a bed wearing only some underwear and suddenly felt the need to be self conscious. Trying to shove that away Johnny scratched at the birthmark on his shoulder, wincing as the muscles in his shoulders tugged angrily before scuttling up the bed to settle against the headboard with his thin legs tugged against his chest. His toes dug into the blanket even as he rested his chin on his knees. Everything ached like an old bruise. Made sense, considering how many he had and that wasn't counting on the stubborn throb of his hips.

"I'll guard," Diego suddenly declared, shifting on the mat so he was facing the door, "Since you're too useless to. Go to sleep. We'll find a doctor in the morning and perhaps wring that Piper woman for information."

"Fine." Johnny didn't have a better plan than that, anyway.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, before anyone asks Gyro shows up in the next chapter lol


	22. The man from Naples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🎅 Merry Christmas 🎅

* * *

Johnny woke up feeling better than he'd felt in quite some time. Drool was crusted at the corner of his mouth with most of his face plastered right up against Diego's scaled arm, blankets a tangled mess around his shoulders with his feet tucked under Diego's heavy tail. 

He was kinda surprised the old bed frame hadn't broken under Diego's weight but whatever, it'd survived the War so it could survive a Deathclaw sleeping on it. Though it didn't exactly say much to Johnny's survival skills, that Diego had managed to climb onto the bed and basically smother him in thick scales and Johnny didn't even wake up. 

Carefully he shifted, still trapped under Diego's arm. The Deathclaw was asleep, the scaly flesh of his face lax and eyelids twitching while he dreamed. Diego's scales were still relatively clean, despite the week of stomping around the wastes and picking through the ruins of Boston. Johnny had noticed that Diego _was_ quite fastidious about his appearance, always taking care to pick out the dirt and filth that would build up in his scales or washing off dust in random mostly-clean puddles or streams they'd pass. Johnny was somewhat the same, having a habit of meticulously cleaning his nails with the hoof pick and washing his face with his precious supply of clean water. Even if the lack of decent showers or baths left him feeling disgusting most days.

Hygiene aside, it was a rare opportunity to just stare at Diego without the usually perceptive Deathclaw noticing. At the smaller, more delicate scales like the belly of a crocodile that clung to the curve of Diego's short snout, the tip of sharp fangs poking through his lips, the smooth transition between his scaled hide to the hard ridges of his curved horns. Despite the sheer bestial nature of Diego's current form Johnny could still see the eerie similarities towards a human skull. The rest of him was all beast however, heavy limbs covered in plates of blue scales and thick spikes running along his shoulder and down his spine. Even though Diego resembled a bipedal lizard he was very warm. Johnny didn't know if that was only for Diego or Deathclaw's in general, since he was fairly panicked last time he met a wild one.

For a long moment he just mused on that, eyes roving around Diego's sleeping face until he raised his left arm, flicking through the screens of his Pip-Boy until he got to the Quest tab which was more of a grocery list. Just basic things, like loading up on supplies, checking the stores, finding a doctor, maybe getting a decent meal, before going to head out to deal with the weird 'Handyman' case Hancock had given him. If someone had told Johnny even two months ago he'd be living in a post apocalyptic wasteland traveling with a giant mutant lizard hunting a serial killer he would've laughed in their face. Still, it was his horrible reality and switching to the map on his Pip-Boy showed the prospective place to check for the so-call murderer was thankfully close to Diamond City.

 _At least GPS still works even two hundred years later,_ he thought Whatever, it benefited him all the same and at least he didn't have to worry about the American government spying on him to make sure he wasn't a Red Menace.

However he was hungry and bored so it was tune to get up and hopefully find something not horribly mutated or rotten or radiation poisoned for breakfast. Though he guessed a hot apple pie would be out of the question. Johnny had been craving one for quite some time for some reason. Maybe because apples were extinct from what he'd seen. 

With a groan he reluctantly got up, though Johnny did have to spend a few moments untangling himself from the raggy sheets before finally getting free and rolling off onto the ground with a grunt before limping over to his clothes. He was actually surprised someone hadn't tried to break into his room to steal his stuff while sleeping at the inn but maybe the Wild West vibe of the wasteland fended off opportunistic thieves unless desperate; Johnny was pretty sure pickpocketing and thievery was usually solved with a bullet to the face and he was still leery of starting a fight despite being adequate with a pistol. He did need to start using his rifle in the long run.

His noisy rummaging woke up Diego, who arched his back and yawned like a cat; it was a lot more fang filled than Johnny's own. He shuddered, grimacing as he turned away from the sight before picking up his clothes from the table and getting dressed. He'd kill for a shower but that seemed a rarity. Hopefully Diamond City had something to that affect but he wasn't going to have the bar too high.

"Wait, where's all this new stuff?" Johnny had finished getting dressed, tying his boots firmly but hesitated when he went to shrug on his backpack; he was fairly sure the pile of junk by the bedside was there last night, especially since Diego's military bags were still sitting, full, by his Vault suit.

"Oh I stole it last night," Diego said nonchalantly.

"What?"

"They have shitty locks."

"You can't just-"

"Christ, can you calm down?" Diego heaved himself off the bed, the old wood groaning, and picking up his Vault suit in long claws as he continued speaking, "I wasn't caught. You can hawk this in the markets, or do you really think we can buy anything with splurging in Goodneighbour?"

He snapped his jaw shut, "...No. But-"

"Just calm down, you're making me _nervous_."

Johnny did end up sorting through the things Diego had stolen, most of it being junk and a few pipe pistols. There were also more drugs, mostly Buffout and Med-X which could be sold but there were also three stimpacks. He used one, which turned the healing gash on his arm from an angry red to a faded pink and the bruises to mostly vanish despite a few, including his black eye, stubbornly leaving discoloured patches of skin. The other two he tucked away safe and the two were ready to explore more of the city- noon wasn't for another two hours when Piper wanted to speak to them, so there was certainly enough time.

Trying to leave the hotel resulted in Vadim accosting them, basically strong arming Johnny into having breakfast with him in one of the nearby rooms. It was very obvious he was just doing that to fish for information about Diego- the man was still quite excited about the 'tame' Deathclaw -the man offered him something called 'mirelurk cakes' that smelled horrific and tried to have him drink some of their local moonshine. Johnny wasn't quite willing to eat the cakes or drink their formidable smelling moonshine.

True to their plan, Diego continued to act as a large guard dog. Not speaking or behaving too humanlike, but Johnny personally thought Diego's eyes completely ruined the act. At least the people of Diamond City were more oblivious, even if the weird feeling if paranoia continued to persist. Diego seemed likewise agitated, the tip of his tail twitching constantly until Johnny managed to fend off Vadim- yet again telling the man Diego was _not_ for sale -and got out of the musty atmosphere of the inn and back into Diamond City.

The city- for what little it could be called that -was bustling at the current hour. The shops were opening with the owners hawking wares or bartering goods with customers. The noodle shop at the centre of the market already had an ample amount of customers sitting at the bench, the stale yellow Protectron continuously stirring its battered pot. Diego followed at his heels as Johnny stumbled around the market, his back feeling sore but nothing overly concerning. He couldn't help but look at the noodle stand, assured somewhat that the noodles actually did look like noodles. He'd half expected actual worms to be in there but it was just noodles swirling around in water. As he peered into the pot the robot spoke, voice glitchy, but whatever it said wasn't in Japanese.

Though naturally things became more hectic when they went to sell their things, namely the squirrely woman with short black hair and bulging eyes completely lost it as soon as Johnny step foot into the alcove of her store.

"Get away from me, synth!" the woman screamed, throwing a clipboard at his head which missed by nearly a metre.

He stopped, Diego lurking at his shoulder before looking up at the store wall that had 'Diamond City Supplies' written in neon wiring with a small scribble of 'Owned by Myrna, NO SYNTHS' scrawled underneath in thick black marker.

"Oh you're that crazy Myrna Piper was talking about," Johnny said scornfully. She was certainly living up to the name Piper gave her.

"Don't you condescend me! That's when they're trying to be sneaky, to mimic humans! But you, you're so blatant! So obviously sent by the Institute! Why hasn't security shot you already?!"

"Look lady, I have no idea what a synth or even what the Institute is."

"That's exactly what a synth would say!" Her knotted fingers curled into claws, as if Myrna was contemplating gouging Johnny's face with her bare hands. 

He took a step back, resting a hand against the butt of his pistol as he eyed the woman uncertainly. Oddly enough no one else in the market seemed overly concerned about the woman's shrieks. Then again if she was called 'Mad Myrna' by everyone then maybe she had screaming fits in public fairly often. 

"Are you going to scream or are you actually a merchant?" Johnny asked.

"Like I'd sell to a filthy robot! You waltz in here with your deranged pet and expect me to-"

Diego smacked her then, knocking her into the back wall where she fell down in a bony heap. Though Johnny knew Diego could've killed her easily enough with one hit he still couldn't help but wince. The loud _bang_ got the security's attention finally and Johnny angrily slapped the Deathclaw's side .

"Goddamnit Diego. Cut that out!"

"Alright what's going on here?" A new voice said, making Johnny twitch violently while Myra staggered back to her feet.

"That horrible thing assaulted me!" Myrna wheezed, lower lip split and pointing a finger in accusation at Johnny, "And they called in you for reinforcement!"

The new comer stopped next to Johnny, a frown on its face as it stared at Myrna. Despite its human appearance it was obvious at first glance it wasn't human at all; The yellow fleshy material of its face had been largely ripped away at the neck and side of the head, exposing the metal skeleton inside. Its attire was a old ripped trench coat and hat, reminding Johnny of the old detective comics and shows that were commonplace before the War. Its left hand was fully robotic, rusted metal with skinny phalanges holding a lit cigarette. Its eyes, a glowing yellow, flicked between Johnny and Myrna who looked livid at the robot's intervention. 

"Oh course you'd side with him," Myrna snarled, "I bet you called him here, didn't you Valentine?' I'm onto you! You've been trying to run me out of town for years!"

Diego backed off until he was level with Johnny, tail flicking back and forth. Around them the security went back to their patrolling, obviously letting the strange humanoid robot handle Myrna who was now cursing and shouting at it. The robot looked more than used to such behaviour, simply scolding her with a 'Back to cussing out travelers, are we?' in its oddly human voice. Johnny was used to the Protectron's and Mister Handy's who had the metallic edge to their voices. But this robot looked disturbingly human in its facial features, the fleshy material of its face perfectly mimicking a human yet without the uncanny valley feel he'd seen in animatronics before. Even as the robot scolded Myrna its face was easily shifting into a disproving frown, brow furrowed and lips curled. The robot was so fascinating and unlike any Johnny had seen before. Even Kleo, with her calm deep voice and humanoid body was still obviously made from thick metal and faceless head lacked the strong mimicry the current robot had. Diego, much like Johnny, was also watching the robot with abject fascination to the point he crept forward and started to sniff at the robot.

Said robot barely gave him a curious glance before continuing its arguing with Myrna, until the woman started screaming about synths again and all but running through the door behind her with a loud slam.

"Eh, sorry about that," the robot turned to Johnny, Diego backing off as the robot offered its metal left hand to Johnny, "Names Nick Valentine. Someone should've warned you about Myrna but don't take her personally. Everyone new gets the 'you're not really human and were sent by the Institute to kill us all didn't you' lecture. Though could have done without pasting her one." The robot, Nick, had a very soothing voice; rough and slightly hoarse but warm.

Johnny didn't shake the robot's- Nick's -proffered hand, instead just staring in fascination at the machine. _Was it made before the War or some time inbetween?_

The robot's lips begin to shift into a frown but before it could withdraw its hand Diego accepted the handshake, scaled paw closing around the delicate-looking metal and jerking it up and down twice before letting go. The robot gave Diego a curious look before saying, "Huh, politer than most people here."

Diego sniffed at him again before going back to his silent staring, Johnny finding himself under the unnerving focus of the robot's glowing yellow stare.

"He with you?" It- he -asked, "Ellie mentioned there was some exciting new comer with a Deathclaw."

"I suppose that's me. Are you a synth?" Johnny asked.

"New here, huh?"

"I was...in a Vault, for quite some time."

"Lots to catch up on then," Nick said, but Johnny could see how his glowing yellow eyes flicked down to the suit tied around Johnny's waist, "Spent the last few weeks locked up in a Vault myself, but it was a base for a wannabe local gang. Not really my cup of tea. But to answer your question, I'm a synth. Synthetic man. All the parts, minus a few red blood cells."

"Are you Pre-War?" 

"Not that I know of. I'm an Institute reject, some might say."

Johnny nodded, before Diego poked him in the back with a claw, jerking his head towards Valentine. "Oh right, what's the Institute?"

"You really are new." Nick lifted his cigarette to his mouth, seemingly unbothered by his lack of lungs to inhale, "The Institute is something of a local boogeyman, secret lab that abducts people and replaces them with synths that look exactly like the people they replaced- before they start shooting people, that is."

"Right. Of course."

"Eh, don't sound so accepting," Nick raised a hairless eyebrow, "The longer you're in the Commonwealth the more you'll see how the Institute enjoys messing with good folk for no other reason than they can. But on more pleasant topics, if you want some trading with less accusations you can try Arturo next door. Myrna is...Well, that tends to be her default personality."

The synth, Nick, then had to excuse himself, saying he needed to get back to his detective agency to speak to someone called Ellie. Johnny let the synth go without much fanfare, running the new information around in his mind with a great deal of confusion and curiosity; _robots replacing people? How would they even get that life like?_ It seemed like something from the film _Invasion of the Body Snatchers._

He was severely distracted when he did go and speak to the next merchant, Arturo, to the point he kept loosing his train of thought until Diego basically headbutted him into the counter which snapped him out of it. Arturo, a man with a short cropped beard and easy smile, didn't seem to mind and instead eagerly asked questions about Diego and how Johnny had tamed him. Johnny eventually ignored all questions like that while trying to figure out how the currency and economy worked in post apocalyptia. At least all the drugs sold quick enough, and Johnny was told the red inhaler was actually some kind of drug called Jet. Diego gave the inhaler a fairly dirty look.

With the trading done- and despite his anxiety Arturo never noticed most of it was stolen goods -Johnny had a lot more bottle caps and more ammo. The caps he kept on hand to hunt down a doctor and hopefully get checked for any radiation poisoning or illness he might have picked up while wandering through the wastes. Diego had once mentioned he was effectively immune to disease from the FEV research, which did correlate with the console entries, but Johnny had no such advantages. At least he still had some alcohol to sterilize the wound, which was probably why the wounds left from the Deathclaw didn't get infected.

Thinking about synths and the so-called Institute at least helped him ignore all the glaring and suspicious looks he was getting from the locals; apparently Myrna wasn't a minority with her paranoia and finger pointing. Even at the noodle shop in the middle of the plaza had people hissing like a mass of snakes until Johnny was torn between cussing them out or hiding in the shadows. Usually attention never bothered him- his stint as a jokey certainly cured him of any anxiety and quite frankly he adored being the centre of attention -but it even dithered from the pity he'd gotten after being shot. It was in the obvious suspicion and fear, as if they half expected him to pull out his rifle and start killing people. It was a far different level of scrutiny from any other he was used to and got the very strong urge to just leave Diamond City, hang a doctor and Piper.

Instead he grit his teeth and acted nonchalant, Diego's breath against his nape reassuring him the Deathclaw was sticking close. Usually he was annoyed with Diego's complete lack of the concept of personal space but now he was grateful for it as they crossed the plaza to where a store was set up near the entry ramp of Diamond City helpfully scrawled with 'Medical supplies' in neon wiring. They certainly did like neon in Diamond City and he was offhandedly curious as to where they'd even gotten it.

The medical bay was open, a heavy chemistry table taking up a large area with a long haired man switching off the Bunsen burner. An old desk and cabinets took up the rest of the store, piled with battered med-kits, rusted surgical tools and numerous drugs and medical jars. It was a far cry from the sterile white of the hospitals Johnny was used to, the chemistry station rusted and desks chipped. There were also suspicious red stains on the wooden floor. _Disgusting._

"Is he the original doctor?" Diego nudged him into a nearby alcove, synthetic voice low.

"The guy with the long hair?"

"They mentioned they were fishing around for a new one since the other killed some idiots. Maybe you try to bring him along if he isn't the usual," Diego suggested.

Johnny gave the Deathclaw a weird look, "Don't you like...hate people?"

"Well yes but you injure so easily. Keeping you alive would probably be easier with a doctor. For what that title is worth these days." Diego shrugged, jaw opening slightly to show long teeth.

Johnny had to admit, there was a point to the argument; he was still fairly incompetent in survival.

The blond man had the ugliest teeth Johnny had ever seen when he looked up from where he was toying with a long syringe filled with a yellow-tinted fluid, grinning widely with green lipstick matching his eyes. His white singlet was splattered fairly liberally with dried blood; the same was said of his dark brown trousers while his leather boots were cracked and worn. His long hair probably would be a shade of light blond but was darkened from dirt and dust tangled within it. 

"Ah great, someone else. You want drugs or to pester me about my personal history?" The man asked bluntly, getting up to lean on the counter. Close up he realized the man's teeth were actually a golden grill, rather than a dentist nightmare he initially thought.

"People already bothering you?"

"It's a new city, everyone is fuckin' nosy. Had to basically beat that reporter woman off when I got here, and not in the fun way."

"...Right." Johnny frowned at him, trying to place the man's accent. He'd noticed Vadim and Yefim had noticeable Russian accents and even Arturo had one. The new doctor had a pronounced accent as well but it differed from the thers. _French, maybe?_

"Or do you wanna ask about something completely boring, like my accent?" The man said. He sounded like he'd been asked that a lot.

"I'll pick the accent one." Johnny said, just to be annoying.

He rolled his eyes, "Alright fine, it's a pretty funny story anyway. My father insisted we speak like our ancestors."

Johnny waited for a few seconds but the man just looked expectantly at him until Johnny exhaled, "Yeah. That's just a fact. Not a story or even a remotely funny one."

"Well, if _Your Majesty_ wants something more in depth then it's an accent from when my ancestor was visiting America with a shitload of his family, where some more family were living here and when the bombs fell travel across seas was fucked and the ship got wrecked on the coast. So we just kinda stuck in that one giant-ass ship, where they were super gungho we kept up with our 'culture', never mind Naples was probably blown to smithereens in the War. But whatever we got raised on that, hence the accent and ability to speak a second language basically no one but my family will know here."

"Wait, you're Italian?"

The man blinked, "You know that? Huh, most people think it's some town out in the Wasteland or whatever."

"I'm pre-War," Johnny said, "I was alive before the bombs fell."

"...Sure," the man said in the tone that made it obvious he didn't believe Johnny, "Anyway, do you actually want something or are you just bothering me?"

"Actually uh, are you planning on staying in Diamond City?"

The man made a face, leaning back against the chemistry bench on his elbows, "Probably not. This whole city reeks of paranoia and honestly I was sick of this synth shit as soon as I heard it."

Diego made a 'go on' gesture with his clawed hands towards the doctor, who frowned at him; clearly the blond picked up on the human-ness of the movement but just settled for squinting at the Deathclaw.

Johnny abruptly asked the man, "Well, do you want to travel with me then? If you don't plan on staying in Diamond City."

"Really? And why would I want to do that?"

"Um." Johnny racked his mind for a reason but came up entirely blank, "Because?"

The Italian stared at him long enough Johnny felt his face go red, his embarrassment not helped but Diego's irritated groan next to him.

"Yeeah, as convincing as that argument, I'm gonna have to decline. Anyway, you Vaulties tend to be batshit so I want to stay away from that."

 _What the fuck is that supposed to mean?_ Johnny resisted the urge to chuck one of the cans on the bench at the man as he turned away back to the chemistry bench, wordlessly dismissing Johnny. It rankled him, the dismissive attitude from the stranger and the urge for violence was there. Instead of throwing something or shooting the doctor he just gave the man's back an irritated glare before stomping off in a huff. 

He wasn't even too sure where he was going when he walked towards what looked like the local rundown church when Diego smacked him in the back of the head, making him stumble and nearly trip into a local trash pile.

" _Ow_ what are you pissy about now?" he snarled, rubbing the back of his head while glaring at Diego.

"Johnny, are you genuinely this stupid or is this an act? I'm curious."

"Shut up," he said angrily, "It's time to go see Piper."

"That's your excuse?"

"I said shut up!"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Gyro's wearing the [Wasteland Surgeon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GTGq3lnR14o) outfit along w his belt and fuckugly hat. 
> 
> Also RIP Johnny with his 2 in Charisma


End file.
